


Painful Bliss

by dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap/pseuds/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The secret to a happy marriage?<br/>There isn't one.<br/>Happy marriages do not exist.<br/>(Draco/Astoria)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

** Prologue: ** **Beginnings**

 

He wasn’t impressed with her the time first he met her but he wasn’t interested in women at the time.

 

The scars from the Second Wizarding War were still fresh, open. At twenty-two he should have already closed that chapter of his life but he is not ready. He does not have the kind of support he needs to fully purge himself of his sins and guilt.

 

His parents do not understand.

 

He deflects the dates his mother tries to set him up on and ignores his father’s persistent questions on what he’s planning to do with his life.

 

Draco Malfoy simply does not know. He does not have any answers and finds himself searching for them, seeking them out desperately in all the places he can. His new job as a potioneer for the Ministry fills him with great pride but something is still _missing_.

 

There is a hole inside of him that needs to be filled but he does not know how to fill it.

 

It is because of this _feeling_ he agrees to go on a date. Just one. He does not expect much to come out of it. He does not think he will have a good time but as he stands in the doorway with the sun shining brightly on the young woman he has just taken out he recalls their easy conversations. The fleeting feeling of something waking up inside of him.

 

The need to know more.

 

She is not breathtakingly beautiful. She looks like an average young woman with thin pink lips and deep blue eyes that remind him fleetingly of the ocean. Her nose is small and cheekbones are sharp. If she were to lose any of the fat on her face she would look skeletal. He likes her more because of her slight flaws.

 

He finds it strange he never realized her at Hogwarts. She was only two years younger than him, same house, but they were not in the same social circles.

 

“I had a nice time,” he murmurs, trying his best not to let the smirk that is threatening to appear on his lips show.

 

His best friend Blaise told him it makes him look creepy. She grins and giggles at his words, though he hasn’t said anything funny.  

 

When he first met her he thought her giggling was annoying. A girl that giggles is afraid to reveal her real laugh.

 

“You sound surprised. I should probably be offended but I’ll let it go for just this once.”

 

Her voice is soft and playful. Now, he can’t hide the smirk. It appears involuntarily but she doesn’t cringe at its appearance. Her cheeks flush as he brought his hand to her face and brushed a piece of her platinum blonde fringe out of her blue eyes. Her hair is much too blonde for it to be natural and normally he would make a comment but at that moment he does not care what is real or fake.

 

The sun is shining on them but there is a cool breeze that makes her shiver visibly but she doesn’t complain like other girls would. Her shoulders are exposed. The dress she is wearing isn’t made for the cool spring weather. At first he minded and mumbled to himself he would have to offer his cloak to her but she never asked and now he wishes she would have so her scent would linger on him for days after their date.

 

“Will I see you again?” he questions, impatiently waiting for her answer.

 

Her lips curve up into a smile and he wants to press his own against hers. He fights the urge to cup her face with his hands or to push her small body towards his, letting his fingers trail up her thigh and pull up the sky blue dress she is wearing that is too long for his taste. He stops himself and instead presses his lips against her cool forehead.

 

It is quick. It is faint but they stand at the doorstep grinning at each other like love struck fools.

 

She smells like vanilla.

 

“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Will you?” Coyness does not work for her because the answer is written clearly on her face, _yes_.

 

He nods his head and runs a nervous hand through his shaggy blonde hair.

 

“Yes.”

 

He is not in love. It is too soon to jump into a relationship but as she thanks him and shuffles inside, closing the door slowly behind her he finds he _would_ like to see her again.

 

His thoughts quickly change to the piece of parchment that sits at his desk at home. His best friend, Blaise Zabini, is in Spain on holiday but he needs to speak to him now. His emotions are too foreign to him he cannot keep them to himself.

 

_Blaise,_

_I met a woman. She is…_

But as he walks away from her doorstep and down the graveled pathway he realizes he does not know how to define her.

 

She is a pureblood. She went to Hogwarts and has a sister, Daphne, who likes to meet men in the Leaky Cauldron, men who had been effected by the war and broken down to a certain degree they didn’t realize they were being used. A pawn in a game she calls _life_.

 

Draco has never been a man of many words and later he will find himself telling his mother about their date. He will mention the conversation and how the food had gotten cold because they had not realized they were served since they were too busy talking and enjoying each other’s company. He will have to stop himself when he realizes he is about to tell her about the urge he had to kiss her and will excuse himself to his bedroom.

 

Before he lays down on his bed and wrinkles his black duvet he will stop at his desk. The parchment will be waiting for him and he’ll dip his feathery green quill in a pot of black ink.

 

_Blaise_

 

He will write quickly in a loopy cursive, smudging the name slightly with the side of his hand, not bothering to let the ink dry as he continues.

 

_I met someone. Her name is Astoria._

One line. Simple. It is all he needs to say to explain his feelings for her. He will fold the parchment and keep it on his desk, not bothering to summon an owl and send it off.

 

It will be in that moment he will realize his heart beating in his chest at a faster pace than normal. A funny feeling will rest in his stomach, a nervous but natural one he knows but rarely feels.

 

For the first time in a long time Draco Malfoy is happy.


	2. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was nervous about falling in and whispered faintly, “Would you catch me if I fall?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J.K Rowling.

** Chapter 1: ** **Love**

_The smell of the salty sea filled his nostrils as his hands snaked around the slender waist of the woman that was laughing before him. She laid her head back on his chest and shivered from his touch. Her blonde hair smelled like the sea and was covered with sand but he didn’t care as he clung to her, not wanting to let her go._

_“Draco?”_

_He could hear the smile in her voice even though he couldn’t see it. A smile appeared on his own face as his fingers tangled her already knotty hair absentmindedly. His grey eyes were staring up at the twinkling stars that lit up the night sky._

_“Hm?”_

_His response was muffled due to her hair. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes. The waves were crashing loudly underneath them and the wooden boardwalk shook slightly. The water was a murky blue, almost black._

_They teetered on the edge of the boardwalk ignoring a sign that read, ‘Do not go past this point.’ Her legs shook and he held her up to support her._

_She was nervous about falling in and whispered faintly, “Would you catch me if I fall?”_

_“Of course,” he answered with a grim smile._

_If she would have turned her head and looked into his grey eyes she would have seen the concern that was there but she didn’t._

_Instead she balled up her yellow sundress in her hands and jumped right off the ledge._

_-x-_

Draco Malfoy woke with a start. His eyes shot open quickly and he took a shaky breath, trying to calm the nervous feeling inside of his chest. He turned his head and inhaled the rich smell of vanilla. It was overpowering his senses as he stretched his arms out and touched the empty space next to him.

 

He shook his head as he struggling to get out of bed, stumbling around the room. His dream had felt so real. The faint smell of the sea mixed with the vanilla was making him feel queasy.

 

“Astoria?” he managed to croak out.

 

He stumbled around the dimly lit bedroom, calling out for her. The last thing he remembered was reminding his wife about their dinner plans. He could not recall when he fell asleep.

 

Draco blinked rapidly trying to regain his senses quickly and pulled at his wrinkled white t-shirt as he fumbled towards the doorway. His eyes fell on the silver wristwatch that was ticking on his wrist. He would barely have any time to get ready before they had to leave.

 

With determination his bare feet rushed through Malfoy Manor. The familiar feeling of the dark red carpets welcomed him as he walked, as if in a trance, ignoring anything around him that didn’t look like his tall slender blonde wife.

 

He found himself checking her familiar favorite spots, the kitchen, and drawing room and then finally settled on the gardens. He turned the brass knobs to the white French doors that led to the garden and pushed the door open, eyes already glue to his wife.

 

“Astoria, come on,” he said, calling out for her lightly.

 

There was a slight breeze outside that made him shiver. He crossed his arms against chest waiting impatiently for her to acknowledge him.

 

His brow furrowed at the image of his wife. She was on her knees in a light blue dress staring at the rose bush in front of her.

 

“Astoria!” he shouted. “What are you doing?”

 

She didn’t move from her position. Her voice was filled with anger when she finally responded.

 

“Nothing. What do you want? I can never get any peace and quiet…”

 

Draco paused. He was used to her snapping at him. He was used to the annoyance in her voice and the anger that crept up whenever he was around. Usually it didn’t appear this quickly. He walked towards her slowly, not caring as his bare feet squished into the dewy grass and dirt.

 

“Your dress is wrinkled and covered with dirt,” she snorted at his remark and rolled her eyes for extra effect as he tried to brush some of the dirt away with his hand. “We have less than thirty minutes before we have to meet Blaise for dinner. Will you _please_ make yourself presentable?”

 

It was the wrong thing to say. Her neck snapped as she turned to glare at him. Her blue eyes filled with anger. Draco felt like he was burning under her gaze and he quickly ran a hand through his blonde hair, averting his eyes and stared at the rose bush beside her instead.

 

“I’m not going,” she said coldly.

 

Draco felt the anger rising inside of him. Not going? She always did this. _Always_. Whenever he had someplace important to be Astoria procrastinated until the last minute. Sometimes he wanted to _imperio_ her. He was tired. Tired of playing games and tired of the way she treated him. He didn’t feel like a person in their marriage. He felt like a nuisance. Like a fly that buzzed around your ear all day until you finally had enough and smacked it dead with a book.

 

Astoria wasn’t smacking him. She was stomping all over him.

 

“Yes you are,” he said. He coughed slightly as another breeze rolled by, shaking the rose bush and making him shiver. It was much too cold to be summer. “He invited us for dinner.”

 

He tried to keep his voice even, knowing if he started to let the anger seep out the blonde would only whip around and start cursing him out. He wasn’t in the mood for her long tirades and dramatic shaking of fists.

 

“I told you a month ago—“

 

She rose from the ground slowly, swinging her long blonde hair around her shoulder. Her brown roots were showing and normally Draco would have made a joke about her it but he stood rooted to his spot waiting for her to say something. The hem of her blue dress was covered with dirt and her hands were tearing the petals of a red rose as her eyes glared at him. Her heart was beating in her chest rapidly as she walked towards him like a lion ready to catch its prey.

 

“I’m _not_ going,” she said forcibly, grinding her teeth together. Her arms were shaking as a thorn pricked her finger. “I _don’t_ want to go. I don’t want to have dinner with him and I don’t want to have dinner with his wife. I have no desire to see them and make nice.

 

She dropped the final crushed petal from her red rose and let the wind carry the pieces away. Astoria tried to walk quickly past Draco but he put his hand out and grabbed her waist lightly. It was as if he didn’t even want to touch her for fear he would anger her more or she would disappear right before his eyes.

 

Her wrist was bony and her normally pale face was flushed red from anger. She sucked in her cheeks making her cheekbones more prominent and jut out.

 

“Astoria,” he whispered weakly, “they’re our friends.”

 

His eyes were sad and pleading. He wanted more than anything for her to exhale and relax in his arms like she once had when they were at the water several years ago.

 

She rolled her eyes. It was obvious to him she didn’t care about his tone or the way his body slumped slightly at her harsh words. She didn’t care her husband of two years looked tired and worn down. She was tired too but he didn’t understand why.

 

Did he care? _Yes_.

 

“No. They’re _your_ friends. There’s no reason for me to go. It never said anywhere in my vows that we’re supposed to act as each other’s limbs. Go without me.”

 

His thoughts flashed momentarily to their wedding day as he stared into her cold blue eyes. A mistake. His heart pounded nervously in his chest as the faint memory overwhelmed him. The smile on her face. The way Astoria had whispered at the alter she loved him.

 

He had to stop thinking like that. He knew she couldn’t read his mind but thinking that his marriage was a mistake made him feel sick to his stomach. Draco knew it was a mutual feeling because Astoria rarely spent time with him.

 

She took a quick step away from him and snapped her arm back to her side, accidentally hitting his in the process. He winced, not because of the physical pain but the emotional. His grey eyes darkened as she bit her bottom-cracked lip, waiting for his rage to finally show itself.

 

“Will you just get ready!” he bellowed.

 

His postured changed at the command. He stood straighter. One hand gingerly gripped the wand in his pocket while the other tugged at his light blonde hair making it stand up.

 

“I have no time for this. Why do you always have to do this?” he asked, exasperated.

 

She sucked in her breath and let her eyes fall to the ground in defeat but he knew she didn’t feel bad. The toes of her left foot gripped blades of grass and she snapped.

 

“I said I’m not—“

 

“This isn’t up for discussion. I said _now_. Do not make me drag you there myself,” he whispered, fingers lightly caressing her chin.

 

Astoria hiccupped slightly and turned away. She walked back towards her rose bushes and pulled out another rose. It was dark red, almost black compared to the others near it. He wondered idly to himself if she pricked herself with enough thorns would all the blood in her body seep out around them.

 

“Enough with the rose bushes,” he said, walking over and grabbing the rose from her hand. “They aren’t important.” The rose broke free and fell to the ground.

 

“Stop it!” she shouted with horror.

 

She watched as his hands started to shake the bush, petals falling freely to the ground in a flurry. Some were picked up by the wind momentarily until they too fell.

 

“Go and I’ll stop. Hurry up and wear something nice. Brush your hair. I don’t care if we’re an hour late. Would it kill you to look presentable?”

 

She said nothing as she quickly turned away from him and slipped inside the house forgotten. He did not see the tears that fell from her eyes as she walked up to their bedroom and sat emotionless brushing her hair at her vanity.

 

They were silent.

 

They were also deadly.

 

-x-

 

For Astoria, meals were the worst part of her day. She didn’t enjoy sitting in the same room as her husband. She didn’t want to make small talk with him. She pretended the person sitting next to her was a ghost or a mere figment of her imagination and if she wished hard enough he would disappear forever.

 

Her anxiety rose when she had to eat with others. Draco was always putting on this façade that they were happy. Sometimes he slung his arm around her shoulders and gave them a loving squeeze as she tried to keep her food down. Other times he would lean over and whisper a question in her ear, not really worried about her response and not noticing the tight line her lips made or the way she gripped her cutlery, knuckles white with pain.

 

She always felt awkward around Blaise and his wife Isabella.

 

Discreetly, Astoria’s eyes fell on the couple that was sitting across from her. Blaise had the top three buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a white t-shirt underneath and a hint of dark chest hair. His tie was loose around his neck as if it was forgotten. His dark hands were on his wife’s caramel colored ones. Her gold wedding ring sparkled as she droned on and on about something Astoria did not care about. There was a permanent smile on her face and her brown eyes kept gazing at her husband with adoration.

 

Astoria thought she was a _fool_.

 

Their displays of affection made Astoria sick to her stomach. It only made her feel worse when Draco kept asking her what was wrong and if she needed anything. His voice was a caring whisper and she had to grind her teeth together to stop herself from snapping at him in front of his friends.

 

Didn’t he understand? Being next to _him_ made her feel sick.

 

Blaise kept shaking his leg underneath the table. There was an excited grin plastered on his face revealing his too white teeth. His brown eyes targeted Draco and Astoria as he gripped Isabella’s hand while his other hand let the fork he was holding clatter loudly on his plate.

 

“We have exciting news,” he exclaimed.

 

Next to him, Isabella dropped her own fork that was midway in scooping a piece of orange sherbet. Her mouth dropped into a frown and she shook her head in protest. She tried to quiet her husband her brown ringlets bouncing around her head.

 

“Blaise, no. I thought we agreed—“

 

He ignored her and gave her bare shoulder a light squeeze. He smiled at Draco and Astoria the excitement bubbling out of him. Draco looked at his friend, waiting for the news while Astoria stared glumly at Blaise and then Isabella who was staring down at her plate, trying to ignore Astoria’s looks.

 

“Let me tell them,” he said to her in a whisper.

 

Excitement filled his voice as he pushed his chair back scraping the wooden floor. He didn’t care about the scuffs that were sure to appear. He quietly walked towards a china cabinet in the corner of the white dining room and pulled his wand out, sliding it into a hole of the cabinet to open it.

 

A small pop could be heard as Astoria watched as he rounded his shoulders trying to get his lanky torso to cover what he was grabbing.

 

Blaise walked back to the table with all eyes on him. He handed Draco and Astoria a small box each wrapped in white paper and a shining silver box. He waited as they ripped their respective boxes open.

 

“Blaise—“

 

“I’m just so excited,” he said to his wife, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. She didn’t say anything as she waited for the reactions from the couple before her.

 

“Did you finally learn how to read?” Astoria asked dryly, rolling her eyes. Whatever was inside the box was covered with pink tissue paper and pieces of confetti.

 

“Open it up already!” Blaise shouted.

 

It was Draco who managed to rip away the tissue paper first. He sucked in his breath and held up the present that was inside.

 

“A bootie?”

 

The blue and white knit bootie felt soft to his touch. He couldn’t imagine someone’s actual foot fitting into it. When Astoria managed to rip away the tissue paper she held up a pink and white bootie, hands shaking slightly.

 

Blaise nodded his head in excitement. “We’re pregnant!”

 

Draco raised his eyebrow and gave him an amused smile.

 

“We?”

 

“ _She_.”

There was shouting and hugs being shared as Draco congratulated the couple. He praised Isabella and wished her well. Astoria sat silently next to him staring at the pink bootie. One pink and one blue because it was too early to know if they were having a boy or a girl.

 

One small knit pink bootie that looked like it would fit a dolls foot and not a real child’s. She gripped the sides of the small box and tried to slow her nervous breathing.

 

“Are you serious?” she asked, throwing the box down and setting her gaze on Isabella. She smiled tightly at Astoria and nodded her head.

 

“The Healers said she’s already four weeks along,” Blaise added, not noticing the exchange between the two. “We want the both of you to be the Godparents. Say yes, _please_.”

 

“Of course,” Draco answered without hesitation. His hand gripped Astoria’s shaking one and squeezed it gently. He gave her a sideways glance and smiled. The excitement was evident in his flushed face.

 

Yet he noticed the way Astoria kept opening and closing her eyes and was mumbling something under her breath. Draco gave her a worried look.

 

“Astoria?”

 

She bit her tongue trying to stop herself from lashing out at the people around her. Draco was staring at her with concern. Blaise was smiling hopefully and Isabella was mouthing a silent apology.

 

“Isn’t this a bit premature?” she asked loudly. Blaise’s smile faltered and he gave her a perplexed look.

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

She glared at him. “It isn’t even kicking yet and you’re already naming Godparents.”

 

“ _IT!_ ” he shouted, flabbergasted. No one else said anything.

 

A _child_. She was having a child.

 

Astoria took a deep breath and tried to calm her shaking. She felt trapped, like a fool. She had seen Isabella yesterday and the Spaniard hadn’t said anything to her.

 

“I…feel ill. I’m leaving,” she mumbled. She rose from her chair and threw her white napkin down. “I’m sorry,” she added. There was an edge to it like she didn’t really mean it.

 

Draco gave her an incredulous look and Blaise shook his head. He muttered under his breath about how he just didn’t understand her.

 

“Where are you going?” Draco asked tightly, signaling her with a nod of his head to sit back down.

 

“Home,” she answered back harshly. Her wand was already in her hand and she spun on the spot. Before she disappeared she said loudly, “Celebrate without me.”

 

The next second she was gone. Leaving Draco to stare at the empty seat next to him.


	3. Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re pretty sure? How can you be pretty sure? Didn’t you discuss this before you got married? You’ve been together for two years—“

_ Love? _

 

Five minutes later, Draco found himself sitting in Blaise’s study in the dark. A bottle of firewhiskey was in one hand as he slumped back in a leather chair staring darkly at his friend who was silently waiting for an explanation.

 

“You’re going to have to say something eventually,” he said, trying to gauge a reaction from Draco.

 

He glowered and glared. “What do you want me to say? That my wife despises me? That she’s _repulsed_ by my touch? Do you know why she was so upset about your announcement? I’m pretty sure she hates kids.”

 

Blaise didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched Draco sloppily take a swig from his bottle. Some of the alcohol dribbled down his chin.

 

“You’re pretty sure? How can you be pretty sure? Didn’t you discuss this before you got married? You’ve been together for two years—“

 

“Don’t you think I know that!” Draco snapped. “Don’t you think I ask myself what the hell is going on in our marriage? I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t do this anymore,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know if I _want_ to do this anymore.”

 

Blaise let the words play over in his head as he leaned back in his chair. He had never seen Draco so shaken before. So _broken_.

 

“Whoever said marriage is easy _lied_ ,” he muttered bitterly, taking another swig from his bottle.

 

-X-

 

Draco always wondered about the happy couples he passed on the streets. The ones that were always holding hands or gazing into each others eyes like they were lost in another world.

 

When he looked into his wife’s cold blue eyes all he saw was anger and boredom. There was also a trickle of resentment, a dash of hatred and a plethora of other emotions he couldn’t quite label.

 

Whenever he asked her if she was happy Astoria would respond: “I’d be happier celebrating having buried you seven feet underground.”

 

He thought it was a joke. She was playful. He always knew she had a twisted way with humor.

 

He could have married Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode or even a muggle but he had to fall in love with Astoria Greengrass.

 

Still, Draco could not regret the day he fell in love with her.

 

He stumbled into their bedroom, shirt untucked from his trousers, hair sticking up and an empty bottle of firewhiskey gripped in his left hand. It was a miracle he hadn’t splinched himself when he apparated after a two hour long discussion with Blaise that would change his life forever.

 

The room was dark. There was one candle burning on Astoria’s bedside table. Draco couldn’t make her face out completely. She looked more like a shadow. He wanted to reach out to her, touch her to see if she was real or a figment of his imagination.

 

He always wondered if she was real. It seemed like half the time Astoria was never around. She was never truly there.

 

She didn’t say anything as he fell on his side of the bed. She could smell the alcohol that seeped off of him. He didn’t miss the way her body flinched and how quickly she curled up into a ball, shifting towards the edge of the bed, not wanting to feel him next to her.

 

“Tori, my dear wife. Why don’t you come over here and sit with me?” he whispered. He patted the space between them. His fingers reached towards the crème silk slip she was wearing. “Have a drink with me.”

 

She ignored him, her fingernails digging into her thighs painfully.

 

“ _Astoria_ ,” he begged, “come closer to me. Now isn’t the time for games.”

 

He slurred over his words and dropped the empty bottle on the floor. The sound of breaking glass filled the silent room. He used the moment to shift towards her and his hands started rubbing her shaking back.

 

“You always ignore me,” he said in a whisper.

 

Astoria gulped and shut her eyes tightly. She was screaming inside her head so she couldn’t hear his voice.

 

“Astoria Malfoy’s favorite hobby, ignoring her husband. Her husband of two years who she loves to curse, reject and belittle every moment she can.” He laughed and shifted closer to her, arms wrapping around her waist, his feet massaged her leg.

 

Maybe if he thought she was asleep he would leave her alone.

 

“You know when you smack me it isn’t that hard. You have very small hands.”

 

His fingers rubbed her bare thigh in slow rhythmic circles.

 

She couldn’t take it anymore. Biting her tongue wasn’t working and keeping her eyes shut was making the image of Draco stronger and the screams in her head weren’t yelling at him to get off of her anymore but to do something, to hurt him.

 

She pushed him off of her and rolled off the bed and onto the wooden floor. Her breathing was heavy as she crouched on the floor, heart pounding in her chest.

 

She waited for him to say something but he didn’t and that only made the rage inside of her worse. She rolled her eyes at the pathetic lump on the bed and brushed the blonde hair that was caked with sweat on her forehead back, biting her lip until she could taste blood.

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, laughing loudly to himself, “you’re thinking: Should I or should I not waste my time dealing with him.”

 

“I can’t stand you,” she said hotly. Her voice was heavy with hatred.

 

“I haven’t heard _that_ one all day. A classic Astoria line.”

 

He shifted towards the edge of the bed, one arm dangling off along with one leg.

 

“You never want to talk to me,” he said sadly.

 

If she could have seen his eyes in the darkness she would have noticed the pain that rarely showed itself because he was always trying to put up a façade.

 

“You never ask me how I’m doing and we’re never intimate. Why won’t you be intimate with me Astoria? Hm?”

 

Draco pushed the question and repeated it two more times before he softly started to hum to himself.

 

Her lips pursed together in disgust and she shook her head with annoyance at the _boy_ in her bed because that’s what he was acting like, a _boy_. She married an idiotic little boy who couldn’t handle life when it got too hard.

 

“We’ve been married for some time now and I’d like a son or a daughter,” he said honestly.

 

His lips curled upwards in a small smile and he blinked, starting to sober up in the darkness. The candle was nearing its end. It flickered slightly and he could make out the cold look on Astoria’s sweaty face.

 

“Even a dog would be fine.”

 

“Yesterday it was a toad,” she said dryly.

 

He sighed. His fingers tapped the side of the bed and he stared at her sadly.

 

“I’m not joking anymore,” he whispered. “I want a child. Salazar knows my mum would love a grandchild to spoil. I get it. I ruin your life and you hate me but you’re my wife.”

 

Astoria didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she got up from her crouched position and stretched her legs. She walked towards the white door that would lead her out of their bedroom and towards freedom.

 

“The idea of having a child with you is repulsive,” she said with a snarl. “Merlin forbid the _thing_ comes out looking like you with your horrible blonde hair and grey eyes.”

 

The fight was back inside of her. She was done with feeling weak in the dark. She momentarily thought of when they first started dating and she said she liked his grey eyes. The truth of the matter Astoria wasn’t even a natural blonde herself. She liked to dye her hair platinum blonde even though it made her look like a walking corpse but Draco had never judged her.

 

She could hear movement coming from the bed as her hand shot out, ready to open the door and rush out, away from Draco.

 

“What are you going to complain about next?” he asked. His voice was closer and Astoria said nothing, waiting for whatever he was going to throw at her. “My skin? You’re very white too dear.”

 

“The day I married you—“

 

“Worst day of your life. I get it Astoria and quite frankly I’m sick and tired of hearing it.”

 

Her back was turned but it was like he was floating on the crème carpet. She couldn’t hear his footsteps but she felt like he had sneaked up on her. His breath was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

 

“I want a child,” he whispered. “A little baby. How can you not want that with me? I want a little boy running around my feet or a little girl to dance with. Someone to come home to that actually enjoys my company.”

 

His voice was filled with bitterness and sadness. One hand lightly touched her stomach. It was as if he thought about it hard enough, wished for it, a child would magically grow inside of her.

 

“Someone I can bounce on my knee. Think of the baby soft skin,” he begged.

 

She closed and opened her eyes. For a moment they shined with a glimmer of warmth but he couldn’t see it. It was fleeting and after a few seconds they went back to their normal coldness she had adopted around him.

 

Astoria whipped her body around quickly. His hands dropped as if she had burned them and she stared directly into his eyes.

 

“You’re not giving birth to _it_ ,” she responded harshly.

 

He was at his wit’s end. Draco could barely stand being in the same room as her for much longer. Sometimes she pushed him to the edge and he was certain he was going to snap. He worked long hours on purpose, creating potion after potion during the night so he could creep into their room when she was asleep so he wouldn’t have to talk to her.

 

Draco was sure she appreciated it.

 

Sometimes he wondered if their marriage was real. If the feelings she showed him when they were dating were all for show and all she really wanted was his money.

 

However, what she didn’t realize was the money was _his_. It wasn’t _her_ money _._ She had no claim over it, no hold. That was the catch with old-fashioned pureblood marriages. Everything belonged to the husband.

 

 _Everything_.

 

He had been suppressing his anger for far too long and it was time to be released. He quickly went over the conversation he had with Blaise in his head. His arms shot out and he gripped her shoulders, pulling Astoria to his body gently, the strong smell of her vanilla soap was intoxicating.

Her blue eyes flashed red hot with anger but she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. She took a step closer to him, noses touching.

 

“You disgust me,” she spat.

 

Draco didn’t flinch. He didn’t bother to pause and wipe the spittle off of his face.

 

It was for better or worse. For richer or poorer. Till death parted them.

 

He smirked in response. The trademark Malfoy smirk that showed up when he was up to no good. She knew he meant business when he smirked at her. It was something he rarely did.

 

“Our marriage is crumbling,” he stated calmly. “We can’t bring a child into this because of your cruelty.”

 

Her nose flared and her face flushed, temper getting the best of her.

 

“My cruelty?” Her voice was tight. “What about _you_?”

 

Next thing he knew she was screaming at him. Words he couldn’t quite catch and curses he didn’t completely understand. She tried to punch him in the stomach but his hands gripped her fist and he watched in amusement as the anger overpowered her. She screamed something about how she hated the Malfoy’s.

 

But Astoria was a Malfoy too. Something that always got to her when he mentioned it.

 

Angrily, she turned back around and stared at the door again. All her thoughts were on escape. Her long hair smacked his face but he ignored the burn as he gently and very slowly caressed her shoulders making her cringe slightly.

“We need to seek treatment. We need someone to talk to. Blaise says we need therapy,” he said calming. He lowered his face towards her and kissed it gently.

 

Astoria was livid. She would find Isabella tomorrow and blame everything on her. Isabella was too soft and fragile but still she adored Astoria. She always wanted them to be _friends_ but Astoria didn’t want friends. She wanted to be left alone and only met her every week to keep up appearances. She couldn’t remember if they had been friends once before. She didn’t know if she had sincerely liked her before she had gotten married.

 

Two years felt like a long time ago.

 

Draco sighed contently as he inhaled the smell of vanilla again. He couldn’t help recall the happiness or _his_ happiness when they first started dating. The eagerness to be around each other and the way he could wrap his arms around her and she would ease into his hold. Within two months of marriage that bliss was gone. Somehow his loving bride had turned into a bitter old hag.

 

“I’m not revealing our business to anyone. You must be out of your mind.”

 

He was out of his mind. Being in love could do that to you. Love could make the sanest man mental.

 

He was out of options, desperate. He wanted more than anything for Astoria to look at him. Really look at him and realize the pain he was in and to come back to him.

 

Draco wanted the Astoria that used to kiss him good morning every day. The Astoria that wrote him letters and would sneak them in between his piles of parchment at work so he would be surprised when he came across them. He wanted the woman who would be waiting for him when he flooed home, hair askew from gardening and nose sprinkled with dirt, smiling at him happily as she stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him.

 

His mind had been foggy for the past two years. Vision blurry searching for the woman that was once his. His heart thumped in his chest, longing for its other half to come back to him and love him again.

 

“If you don’t agree to therapy I’ll cut you off,” he said matter-of-factly.

 

The warmness had vanished from his tone and in place was a coldness that made the hairs on Astoria’s arms stand up. His finger twirled a lock of her blonde hair as he waited for a reaction.

 

She didn’t respond. Astoria was too smart to respond. Instead she contemplated his demand. She was trying to think of every loophole she could before she attacked. She was like a spider getting ready to mark its prey.

 

“That means no more money,” he continued quickly,” and no more shopping trips. There would be no more traveling or parties or lunches with the girls. You’d have to wear the same clothes for years to come. I hear it’s hard keeping your figure when you reach a certain age.”

 

He stopped abruptly to press his lips against her neck once again. He was leaving a soft trail of kisses that would make Astoria scratch her skin until it was red and raw for an hour, trying to erase all memories of his touch.

 

“You wouldn’t dare do that to me!” she shouted angrily. Her voice quivered slightly because the thought of having nothing scared her. “I…I don’t need your money. I _don’t_ ,” she protested but her voice shook too much and she knew her words were lies.

 

She was used to a certain kind of life.

 

“Try me,” he said with a grin. “There’s no way out of it. Either go to therapy with me or start to live your life like a lowly House Elf.”

 

She cringed. He had finally trapped her after all this time. It felt too easy to Draco but maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. Maybe she secretly wanted help too.

 

“Fine,” she muttered hotly. “Fine.”

 

He couldn’t contain his grin as she opened the bedroom door and angrily stalked off, cursing under her breath.

 

“I love you too Astoria,” he whispered smugly to himself. “I love you too…

 

-X-

 

_He jumped in after her. If it was possible he would have hit the water first to cushion her fall but he splashed in next to her, making large ripples in the water. The water was cold and made him shiver. He asked her what was the purpose of that._

_A smile appeared on her lips and her blue eyes danced under the stars. She splashed him making a scowl appear on his face and she grinned in return._

_“I knew you would jump if I jumped,” she said calmly. “I wanted to test my theory. I wanted to see if you would protect me.”_

_Draco didn’t say anything. His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her shivering body to his, trying to relay what little body heat he had to her._

_“What do I get for proving you right?”_

_She grinned; batting her wet eyelashes she leaned in towards him, her mouth next to his ear._

_“I love you,” she said._

_It was the first time she said those three words._


	4. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her voice called out to him and he let his hands snake out of his pocket, patting the box one more time before she entered the kitchen.

** Hope **

_Anxiety filled his body as his fingers gripped the small black box that had been burning a hole in his pocket for the past three days. He had been taking it out periodically and staring at the small engagement ring, eyeing every piece of it whenever had a chance because he was convinced there was something wrong with it. He found himself slipping it onto his own finger at times. It didn’t fit properly but he liked the way it felt against his skin._

_It was like it longed to sit on a person’s flesh, cool and light._

_He didn’t know if she would like it. He didn’t know if she liked gold or silver when it came to jewelry because it wasn’t something he normally saw her wear or paid attention to. If she wore a necklace his eyes automatically went to her chest. Earrings were just another way for her to seduce him. He found his teeth would tug at her ear lobes when she wore them._

_He didn’t know if she would even say yes but Draco hoped desperately she would._

_Maybe she would cry when he got down on one knee. Maybe she would laugh at him and say no. The scenarios had been playing endlessly in his mind for the past two months._

_“Draco?”_

_Her voice called out to him and he let his hands snake out of his pocket, patting the box one more time before she entered the kitchen._

 

_-x-_

The room wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The walls were dull grey and the carpet was a dirty beige. Draco sat next to Astoria on a black settee that could have fit four people comfortably. They both sat at opposite ends, the space between them made _the therapist_ scribble notes on his parchment for a few seconds as he waited for either of them to say something.

  

‘The therapist’ was what Draco kept calling the middle-aged man that was sitting up in his chair with a passive expression on his face. Somewhere in the room a clock ticked the seconds away and Draco found himself staring at the man, Lucien, with a sour expression on his face.

 

This was what he got for listening to Blaise. He was wasting his galleons on a bloke that hadn’t spoken a word in the last ten minutes.

 

Draco shook his leg impatiently and then said, “So what do we say?”

 

Lucien’s brown eyes flickered behind his red horn rimmed spectacles. He shrugged his shoulder. He could tell what they thought about him, they were skeptics. They did not think that he could do anything to actually help them, all they were doing was throwing money at him and waiting for a quick fix.

 

Therapy was not a quick fix. When people think of therapists they envision an old man or old woman wrinkled from age with all the answers they were looking for. Lucien did not have all the answers.

 

Most of the time he could repeat the same thing since he never had to stray from the questions he wrote down on his parchment for each couple.

 

Lucien had many questions.

 

_What did you expect to happen in here today?_

_When did your relationship change? How long has it been this way?_

_Why are you here?_

Sometimes he was startled by couples that seemed to be in such a painful and unnecessary relationship he wanted to advise them to go their separate ways. If it was ethical he would have come right out and said what was going on between them, in his viewpoint, and write them a list of reasons why they need to break up at that exact moment.

 

He did not know what kind of couple Draco and Astoria would turn out to be but he knew that there was light at the end of every tunnel and he could tell Draco searched for it desperately, endlessly, while Astoria walked deeper into the dark, shielding her eyes from any light and any hope for a better tomorrow.

 

“Start at the beginning. I’m here to listen. Not judge. What would you _like_ to say, Draco?”

 

The beginning? Was he supposed to talk about the first time he officially met her? The way Daphne had pushed a then shy Astoria into him _accidentally_ and then introduced her as her younger sister. Her younger and very single sister.

 

The introduction had been awkward and Draco hadn’t even glanced at her the first time they met.

 

_You went to Hogwarts too, right? It was nice seeing you. Hopefully we’ll run into each other again soon._

It was cheesy and he hadn’t been sincere when he said it. In truth he hadn’t remembered her from Hogwarts or from that initial meeting on a random corner in Diagon Alley. Yet he did see her again thanks to his mother and her incessant nagging and the emptiness inside of him.

 

They saw each other time and time again until everyone realized you could not have one without the other.

 

Draco gulped and looked down at his shoes. He would have liked to say a lot of things. There were plenty of things that were bothering him. First, he wanted to know what Lucien kept writing down every few seconds when neither of them had spoken a word except ‘hello.’

 

He also wanted to demand that Astoria sit closer to him and allow him to snake his hand with hers because he felt nervous, unsure of himself and out of his element sitting in the sweltering room that had only one small window. The sun was shining through it and a gust of wind would come every few minutes but it wasn’t enough for Draco who was starting to sweat in his long trousers and black t-shirt.

 

Draco looked over at Astoria who was wearing sunglasses so large they took up half of her face. He couldn’t see her eyes that were sure to look bored. He didn’t know how she wasn’t breaking into a sweat either in her heavy blue dress robes she was wearing and ridiculous brown floppy hat on her head like some sort of protective headgear.

 

He should have known there would be trouble once they left the Manor. Of course there was trouble before they left too. He had to convince Astoria to actually wake-up at eight in the morning (she had kicked him in the stomach, blaming reflexes) and then rush her to get dressed within thirty minutes. Then she had had a fit because she had to hold onto his arm for sidelong apparation since she didn’t know where they were going.

 

Somehow in between all of that she had also managed to smash into a white porcelain vase his mother had given them as an engagement gift (she swore it was an accident) and light his breakfast on fire (again another so called accident).

 

Now, in an extremely bad mood and feeling slightly woozy, Draco thought he was going to have to use a sticking charm to keep Astoria in her seat for the hour-long session. She kept ignoring Lucien whenever he spoke to her.

 

He had never seen her act so cold to someone who wasn’t him before and he actually liked it.

 

“Draco, Astoria, let me level with you. You have to pay me either way, whether you sit here in silence glaring at each other or start talking. I suggest you start talking because that’s the only way we can work through your problems.”

 

Draco glared at Lucien and then folded his arms against his chest as sweat trickled down his forehead and fell onto his upper lip.

 

“We’re going to need more than an hour to discuss our problems. Might be stuck in here all day. She’s not going to cooperate anyway,” he said, uncrossing his arms and then crossing them again nervously.

Astoria turned her head to glare at him, sliding her sunglasses down for the moment.

 

“I said I would come. I never said I would _share_ or _say_ anything. I never said I would cooperate,” she said with annoyance.

 

Lucien gave Astoria a sharp look and sighed. “Astoria—“

 

“Keep talking to me like you _know_ me and I’ll hex you,” she threatened icily. To prove her point she removed her wand from her robes and flicked it, lighting a corner of his parchment on fire.

 

Lucien quickly dropped the papers and stomped on them to put out the flame. Draco couldn’t help but smirk. She might have been a real pain in the arse but Astoria knew how to entertain him. Plus, she looked adorable when she was threatening harm to _others_.

 

He watched as Lucien turned red and stared at Astoria with worry. He picked up his papers again and shuffled them around nervously. Satisfied at his discomfort, she pocketed her wand and leaned back in her seat.

 

“I’ll start then. I don’t know where but I’ll start,” Draco murmured, sliding his hand across his forehead to remove some of the sweat.

 

Lucien nodded. “What do you hope to accomplish in this session and over the course of the next sessions?”

 

Draco thought for a moment, listening to the ticking of the clock in the room. The _tick tock, tick tock,_ was making it hard for him to think. He blinked, trying to keep his thoughts on Astoria and their marriage but all he could think about was Blaise. The way Blaise smiled as he asked them to be the godparents to his unborn child. The way the bootie felt soft between his fingertips. The jealousy that filled his body when he realized that he was going to have a child before him. No, it wasn’t jealousy.

 

He quickly brushed that aside and swallowed. He was not jealous of his best friend. He was not jealous of a child.

 

"I hope to get her to speak, today at least. In the end? I just want to be happy once this is all over. I want us to be happy again."

 

He stole a glance at Astoria but her expression was unreadable since she had shoved her sunglasses on her eyes again, shielding herself from his gaze. 

 

"How long have you been having issues?"

 

"I don't know," he answered slowly, but he _did_  know. He thought about it long enough day in and day out. He could pinpoint the exact day and time Astoria looked at him without an ounce of love in her eyes. "We've been married for two years. Maybe two or three months after we got married?"

 

It was two months and three days. 

 

"Astoria, is this true?" She pursed her lips and didn't say anything. 

 

"If you started having problems then why haven't you sought therapy sooner?"

 

The room was quiet for ten minutes, the only sound coming from the tick of the clock and tapping of Draco's foot as he thought of the best way to answer the question. _Pride. Hope._

 

Denial. 

 

He didn't want to admit to anyone else they were having problems. He didn't want to accept his marriage had crumbled quickly and he couldn't figure out a way to fix it. He was a failure. He was always a failure. He could never do anything right. Now he had to put his pride aside and admit defeat. He had to listen to Blaise for two hours go on and on about therapy sessions that he and Isabella had been going to for their year and a half marriage not because they were unhappy but because they never wanted to be. 

 

Hope was different. 

 

Hope was what Draco clung to whenever Astoria's nasty words bit him. Hope was what he had whenever he came home and Astoria wasn't there to greet him. He hoped desperately that one day he would blink and everything would be back to normal. 

 

"Because I hoped that I could fix us," he whispered, averting his eyes from Lucien and instead staring at the small open window.

 

He thought about the life that was going on outside, of the happier people that would be walking around, hand in hand, smiles on their faces because their relationships were new and flourishing. 

 

"And now you think you can't fix it?" Lucien pressed gently. 

 

Draco slowly put his eyes on the man. He didn't feel like he was judging him but he didn't feel comforted by him either. He didn’t like the slight condescending tone in his voice.

 

He didn’t think Lucien would understand. He was certain no one had been in such a volatile relationship like he was in. What he really wanted--besides for his wife to start showing her love again and her emotions towards him that didn’t involve anger and resentment or his ears bleeding from her shouts--was to hear her laugh.

 

He wanted to hear her laugh like she had when he asked her to marry him. He wanted to see tears fall from her eyes and roll down her cheeks because she was happy to be with _him_ , to have _him_. To need _him_. He never felt needed anymore.

 

It sounded ridiculous in his head so he kept his mouth shut and tried to bottle down some of the emotions that were inside of him. He was willing to share but only so much.

 

Lucien was staring at him, waiting for his answer. Draco blinked and swallowed, struggling to think of the correct one.

 

"I'm here aren't I?" he said, defeated. 

 

Nothing more was said for the rest of the session. Twenty minutes passed by slowly as Draco let his sweaty head drop in his hands. He didn't turn to look at Astoria. He didn't look up at Lucien who tried to ask him another question. 

 

If he would have looked at Astoria he would have noticed the slight tremble of her hands and the way her lower lip quivered momentarily at his statement. 

 

-x-

 

The sessions, Lucien had said at the end, would end with an assignment. The first should have been the easiest: spend an hour together. Try to enjoy your time together.

 

It had been three days since the first session and Draco could barely come across Astoria in the manor. Between his work, meals, and sleep he had only so many hours to trail after his wife before he got fed up and quit all together. 

 

It was on the fourth day, on his day off from work, that he had decided enough was enough. They had another session in three more days and he wasn't going to walk into the room without any progress being made.

 

He spent an hour after breakfast stomping through the house, looking for any sign of Astoria. She wasn't in the gardens where she normally would have been tending to her numerous rose bushes. She wasn’t in their bedroom and by the faint smell of the vanilla on their sheets he wasn't entirely sure she had been sleeping in the bed for the past few days. 

 

It had taken him two hours of countless searching, circling back and forth, back and forth from room to room that he found her crouched in the cellar, blonde hair matted with dirt. She was wearing the same blue dressrobes she had been in the day of the session. The sunglasses were thrown to the floor and she was fingering the brim of her hat, a plate of food lay forgotten next to her. 

 

"Astoria?" he called, an eerie feeling filling him. He hadn't wanted to come down there but it was the only place he hadn't checked.

 

There were certain parts of Malfoy Manor Draco never liked to visit and this was one of them. He paused because he could have sworn he heard the manic laughter of his aunt Bellatrix from upstairs and if he squinted his eyes enough Astoria transformed into Luna Lovegood, dirty and shaking from the torture she had experienced at the hand of his family. 

 

His heart dropped in his chest and whatever anger he had been feeling had disappeared as he walked towards her slowly and then bent down, to sit next to her.

 

"I was wondering if you wanted to spend some time together. Get some lunch. We can eat in the garden," he whispered, giving her a hopeful glance. 

 

Her face remained emotionless as she mumbled, "No."

 

It would only be so easy, he realized, to pull out his wand and point it at her, muttering an unforgivable curse to muddle her brain and make her walk upstairs like she was in a trance to spend some time with him. The thought disgusted him but the cellar made him revert to ways he had been taught. It made him remember the darkness that had followed his family for years and the way he watched the people he looked up to do terrible things, not realizing not only were they hurting the prisoners that they possessed but the people that cared for them as well.

 

"I know how much you enjoy being in the garden. I can see the dirt on you. I can help you with the rose bushes. You always used to let me help you," he stumbled over his words, trying desperately to not cling to the past. His hand brushed hers and she shifted away from him. 

 

He could obliviate her mind, just enough so that she remembered the good times and would stare at him glossily, wondering if she had forgotten something but smile at him again like she was meant too.

 

"Remember when we planted those tulips together? Kept wondering why they wouldn't grow and then I realized a week later I had never planted the seeds. You had laughed so much at me. I thought you would be angry. Remember Tori, remember?" His voice was soft and his hand reached out towards hers again but she didn't move. 

 

"No," she repeated, this time with more force. 

 

He sighed and then took a deep breath trying to not let the anger get the best of him. "Come on Astoria. How long have you been down here? You're acting like you're some sort of prisoner in your own home. Come upstairs. I’ll make you some lunch, whatever you want. Some fresh clothes will do you some good. I can read to you like I used to, help you fall asleep. Have you been sleeping Astoria?"

 

She turned to him, bags underneath her eyes, and mouth in a tight line. "I am a prisoner," she said quietly. "I am a prisoner," she repeated louder. "I _am_  a prisoner in _your_  home!" she shouted in his face. 

 

Draco didn't know how to react. He cautiously moved away from her as she pounded her fist on the concrete floor underneath her. 

 

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!" She shouted, eyes burning with anger. 

 

“You’re mental!” he shouted, staring at her. He really couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was actually scaring him. He was petrified of the screams that were being emitted from her mouth and planted his hands on his ears for safety.

 

“I HATE YOU!” She screamed and then cackled, banging her fist on the floor. “Get out! Get out!”

 

He didn’t need to be told thrice.

 

He didn't say anything else as he quickly got up and rushed back up the stairs. The light kept calling out to him and once he reached the top he slammed the door shut loudly behind him, breathing heavily as her muffled scream filled his ears. 

 

Draco didn't realize he was shaking until he reached the safety of his bedroom, falling onto the mattress with a loud scream that hurt his ears and violently shook his insides. 

 

 

As he calmed down his terror slowly turned into red-hot anger. He didn’t know who that monster was that was hiding in the cellar of his home. He just wished that it would go far, far away, vanish into thin air like a faint memory.

 

He couldn’t help but scoff, recalling the time he had asked the monster that was rotting in his cellar to be his wife. He didn’t know how he had convinced himself that she was the love of his life. It hurt him more because he knew, deep inside of his heart that she still was, even after she had ripped his heart out of his chest and let it shatter to the floor in pieces like broken glass.

 

-x-

 

 

The room hadn't changed from the last time they were in it. It wasn't as hot as it was before, considering it was nighttime. It was darker, a few candles were lit and shadows were casted around it. The clock still ticked the time away slowly and Draco and Astoria sat in the same spots, on the edge of the black settee. 

 

"How did spending time together go? What did you do?"

 

Draco bit the inside of his cheek as Lucien sat back in his chair, tapping his blue-feathered quill on his parchment.  His brown eyes ignored Astoria and instead targeted Draco, much to his displeasure. 

 

How did it go? What did you do?

 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him the exact details. He didn’t know what Astoria did afterwards but he had rushed under the duvet of their bed and screamed into his pillow, trying to outdo the screams she had thrown at him.

 

It didn’t work.

 

And the faint smell of vanilla had made staying in bed even more torturous.

 

"It didn't _go_. Next question," he demanded, snapping his fingers. His head pounded as he tried to keep himself from yelling. He wanted to appear as normal as possible incase Lucien could not be trusted.

 

Lucien pursed his lips and quickly scratched something down. "So, why didn't it _go_?" he asked gently. 

 

"Don't ask me, ask her," Draco muttered, turning to acknowledge Astoria for the first time.

 

He hadn't properly seen her since the time in the cellar. He had started to avoid coming home from work and frequently found himself holed up in his study, taking his breakfast and dinner there. There was a nasty crick in his neck from sleeping in his leather chair and his lower back ached. 

 

Astoria looked cleaner than he had last seen her. Her robes were a rich burgundy. There were no sunglasses to shield her eyes but Draco found himself scowling as he realized the thing that was missing was her wedding ring. 

 

She had never taken it off before. 

 

"Astoria, care to say something?" She said nothing and instead crossed her arms, glaring at Draco and then at Lucien.

 

Impatience was filling him and he put down his quill, giving her a hard look. He would have to change his tactics with her.

 

"Astoria, your silence astounds me. Why are you even here if you're not going to try and change things with your husband? Do you not want to change things? Are you happy with your marriage?" He pushed on, question after question, watching her left eye twitch as the seconds went by. 

 

"Haven't you ever heard the expression, 'less is more'?" she said, breaking her silence. 

 

Draco reacted by rolling his eyes but a ghost of a smile found it's way on Lucien's lips.

 

"She speaks," he said with a nod. "You don't like all my questions? Let's start with one then, why are you here?"

 

She growled and glared at him. "Because _he_ ," she jabbed her finger at Draco, "is making me. I don't want to be here."

 

Did she even care? The question plagued him from their first session. Did she even want to try and salvage their marriage or was he really forcing her? Was he really making her come to therapy, connecting her to him by emotional force?

 

It sounded childish to Draco’s ears but it was the first true thing she had said and the first time she acknowledged him in the room. He folded his hands in his lap and listened intently like he was in Potions class or History of Magic, learning something new.

 

Lucien leaned back in his chair, the words she had said replaying in his mind. His eyes were still locked on Astoria, trying to figure out the best tactic to work with her.

 

“Did he physically drag you here, Astoria?” he asked, brown eyes shining.

 

“No.”

 

“Did he harm you in any way to get you down here? Lay his hands on you? Put you under the _Imperio_ curse?”

 

“…No,” she whispered, crossing her legs and then uncrossing them.

 

“You’re hiding behind anger because you don’t want to display your real emotions,” he said, a triumphant look on his face.

 

Astoria scowled and tapped her fingers on the side of the settee, averting her eyes from Lucien and instead staring down at the floor, mumbling under her breath.

 

“Why do you fight with your husband?” he questioned, wincing slightly at the way she glared at him.

 

“She just likes to rant,” Draco murmured offhandedly. “She’ll blow up like a potion gone wrong if you push her enough. Trust me, I now,” he said tiredly.

 

But the answer to Lucien’s question plagued him because he knew she was hiding something. There was a pain inside of her that was waiting to be released and would when she reached a boiling point. He really didn’t know what to expect and what she was capable of.

 

Silence filled the room again as Lucien looked back at Draco who was expressionless. He didn’t know if he should have been satisfied that Astoria had finally talked. He wasn’t sure if Lucien could analyze his wife and make him understand her.

 

Because all he wanted was Astoria back. There was a hope inside of him that the woman he fell in love with was still in there somewhere, struggling against whatever was inside of her to come home.

 

Or maybe she was gone. Maybe she could not come back to him. Maybe that part of Astoria, the part that he loved and cherished had died and now he was being introduced to a new part, a new version of his wife that he would have to learn to love. Draco knew he would keep searching for the part of his wife that had left him. The part that had loved him but if he could not find her then he hoped he could learn to love the new model of Astoria.

 

At that moment he knew he could not.

 

-x-

 

_“What are you doing here inside the kitchen? Please tell me you’re not hungry already?”_

_Her voice was filled with amusement at the thought of him wanting to eat again. She always teased him about his eating habits. He ate like some sort of farm animal but never did gain any weight._

_“No. What do you take me for?” he asked, voice shaking slightly._

_She smiled at him, blue eyes shining as she wrapped her arms around his torso, hands massaging his sides._

_“Come to bed then,” she whispered, “I’ll help you work up an appetite.”_

_He grinned at her words but didn’t say anything. He was staring instead, at the silver pots and pans that were hung by the stove. He couldn’t properly make her figure out but he noticed the familiar curls of her hair and the shape of her face along with her sea blue eyes._

_“I love you, you know that, right?”_

_She rolled her eyes. “What is going on in that head of yours? Mmm…?”_

_“Will you marry me?” he asked quietly, staring at the pot._

_Astoria froze, hands falling from his body and fingered the long dark green silk shirt she had borrowed from him for the night._

_“What?”_

_At her voice it registered in Draco’s head that he had just said the words out loud and had asked for her reflections hand in marriage. He spun around on his heels, almost knocking her into the counter. Blushing, he gave her a weak smile, grey eyes filled with hope._

_There wasn’t enough room between them for him to get down on one knee. He fumbled to remove the box from his pocket as nervousness filled his body._

_“Astoria Greengrass, will you marry me?” he asked, this time it was louder and filled with more confidence as the box flicked open, revealing a small diamond engagement ring._

_She bit her lip and the color drained from Draco’s face. She was going to say no and then he would have to pretend that it was a joke. He wondered if he could transfigure the ring into something else, a cookie or a cupcake with the frosting spelling out, ‘Just Kidding,’ because it would soften the blow by so much._

_“Let’s just for—“_

_“Yes,” she mumbled, grinning. “Yes.”_

_“I’m sorry?” he choked out, taking a step away from her. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She must have been joking. Must have heard him wrong._

_The question was at the tip of his tongue again but she beat him before he could ask her again. He wanted to tell her how special she was to him. Talk about love and their future that he had so clearly planned out in his head that nothing could go wrong._

_“Yes, I’ll marry you.”_

_His fingers fumbled to take the ring out of the box and then he put it on the wrong finger but it didn’t matter because she was going to be his. Astoria Greengrass was going to be his wife and that’s all he had hoped for._


	5. Guidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Marriage isn’t to be taken lightly,” she whispered from the side of her mouth. “Think of your vows. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse—“

_The door was cold to his touch as Draco opened it. He walked into his father’s office with determination. His insides were shaking but he tried to keep his exterior cool and collected._

_“Father?” His father’s head was bent down as he scribbled some words on a piece of parchment. His face was lined with several wrinkles but as he looked up to see his son who was shaking slightly in front of him, a small smile played on his dry lips._

_“Yes Draco, what seems to be the problem?”_

_“I’m getting married tomorrow,” he whispered, taking a seat in a dark leather armchair._

_He felt queasy and his stomach was in knots. He was certain he was coming down with something right before the wedding and if it didn’t go away soon he would throw himself into St. Mungo’s, begging the Healers to fix him and to do it fast._

_Lucius watched his son with a wry smile. “Nervous?” he teased lightly._

_Draco huffed. “No…yes…” he mumbled, trying to peek at the words his father was writing. Lucius covered the parchment with his hands and gave his son a pointed look._

_“What are you doing? Tell me the Prophet still isn’t bothering you. I told them we weren’t—“_

_“No, Draco. The press is fine. This,” he waved the parchment in the air and then slid it towards his curious son who snatched it eagerly, “is the deed to Malfoy Manor.”_

_Draco crinkled his nose, reading the loopy cursive. “Why does it say my name?”_

_“Because now the house is yours. Once you get married your mother and I are moving out. We’ve already picked out a house. It’s much smaller than the manor but it’s a perfect size for us, even without a house elf.”_

_Draco gaped at his father and placed the parchment down gently. “But…you can’t go,” he cried, face red with worry. “What if I need you? What if Astoria and I get into a fight and I need some advice or…or something happens?”_

_“You’re not a child Draco. You don’t need your mother and I to help you with everything. We can’t help you with everything.”_

_“B-but—“_

_“I don’t have all the answers Draco,” Lucius said gently. “No one has all the answers. If you have a problem you need to figure out a way to fix it. The person that knows your relationship the best is you.”_

_Draco hung his head. He felt like he already failed and he hadn’t yet walked down the aisle. “But what happens,” he questioned, “if I don’t understand my relationship. What if I fail?”_

_Failure had always been the biggest problem with Draco. He felt like a constant failure in his life and his father hadn’t always been the one to back him, but to push him and yell at him whenever he didn’t succeed._

_His father did not say anything but when his mother slipped into the room with only minutes to spare before he was going to go bind himself to another woman, she listened to his fear and said that as long as the love was always there, he could never fail._

_“But what if we fall out of love?” he asked his mother, interlocking his arm with hers. Narcissa smiled softly at him, her blue eyes filled with excited tears._

_“Marriage isn’t to be taken lightly,” she whispered from the side of her mouth. “Think of your vows. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse—“_

_He cut her off quickly, momentarily pausing their walk towards the wedding party that was eagerly awaiting them. The wedding march had already started but it was faint from where they were standing._

_“For better, for worse?” he repeated nervously. “What’s this worse about?”_

_Narcissa gave him a sharp look. “Just like your father, didn’t review your vows beforehand. Trust me when I say this Draco, there will be far better times than worse. So, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer—“_

_He grinned. “Well, I’m already rich so I doubt poor really effects us.”_

_Narcissa rolled her eyes and smacked the back of his head lightly. “In sickness or in health—“_

_“Sickness?” he repeated, paling slightly._

_Narcissa nodded. “To love and to cherish ‘till death parts you. Now, Draco, do you love her?”_

_He nodded but he also wanted to ask his mother about this ‘death’ and ‘parting’ business. Death sounded final. There was no coming back from death. Draco knew he did not want to part from Astoria._

_“Then you’re already starting your marriage off to a perfect start.”_

_Draco nodded uneasily but he could say no more as his mother put on a smile and looped her arm with his again. The wedding march was louder, the ceremony had begun and as he took his first step on the stone path that sat both of their families on either side his worries vanished because of his mother’s words, he was going to have a perfect marriage._

_In his heart he was sure of it._

_-x-_

A breeze rolled into the room causing Isabella to shiver. Astoria had been staring at her, blue eyes cold, ever since she had met her for lunch. They were sitting right by a window, all the way in a dark corner of a rundown restaurant but Isabella didn’t complain. She didn’t care that she could barely make out the words on her menu or the fact that the chair she was sitting on kept wobbling underneath her weight.

 

She had been happy to meet Astoria since she hadn’t spoken to her for two weeks.

 

“What are you having?” she asked lightly, squinting to see if she was reading ‘chicken’ or ‘cow liver.’ She really couldn’t tell.

 

“Nothing,” Astoria said after a few minutes.

 

Isabella looked up at her, examining her closely for the first time. Astoria’s eyes look tired and sunken. She had dark circles underneath her eyes that made her look older, closer to thirty. Her normally smooth and shiny blonde hair look tangled and oily and she was wearing heavy black dress robes that seemed to hang off of her frail body.

 

Isabella found herself staring down at the menu again, not bothering to read the words as Astoria reached for her water. Her fingernails were dirty. There was dirt underneath each nail bed, making Isabella cringe.

 

“On a diet, are we?” she asked lightly, trying to break the silence between them. “Draco’s lucky he has a wife that’s so dedicated to him. You manage to keep your figure well.” Isabella looked up nervously, her brown eyes hoping for a flicker of amusement in Astoria’s face.

 

Instead, Astoria stared at her coldly and tapped her fingers on the wooden table, not saying a word.

 

“Astoria, why did you even ask me to lunch if you weren’t going to eat? What’s the matter? You look…” She let the sentence trail off unsaid between them because she didn’t want to upset her.

 

Astoria had quite the temper and anything could set her off. Thankfully, the place they were in was empty, save for their waiter who hadn’t come back to take their orders ever since he sat them down.

 

“I look?” she asked. Her voice was filled with warning but she arched her eyebrow, waiting for Isabella to go on.

 

Isabella shifted in her seat as one hand touched her stomach for protection. It was too early for her to be showing but just the thought of someone inside of her that wasn’t like the evil sitting in front of her calmed her nerves.

 

“Have I upset you?” she questioned. Her other hand found itself wrapped around the wand that was in her robe pocket. She knew she wasn’t going to use it but the thought of magic comforted her.

 

“Have _you_ upset me?” Astoria asked, glaring at her. “Let’s see. Let’s see, let’s see.” She tapped her fingers loudly on the table, not taking her eyes off of Isabella. “Oh Draco, I’d _love_ it if you and Astoria would be the godparents to our child…oh, what was that Blaise? _Your_ child? Since when was your wife with child—“

 

“Stop it!” Isabella shouted as Astoria grabbed the butter knife that was next to her and started to stab the table with it. Wood shavings littered the table, making her toes curl in her tight shoes. “Astoria, I was going to tell you. I _swear_ but Blaise was too excited. We had just found out that day. I didn’t know he was—“

 

She rolled her eyes and dropped the knife. “I didn’t know,” she said, mimicking Isabella’s worried voice. “I didn’t know Astoria. Forgive me Astoria. I’m so stupid Astoria.”

 

Isabella frowned. “What’s the problem anyway Astoria?”

 

But as the question left her mouth she knew what it was instantly. Isabella and Blaise had only been married for half the time that she and Draco were. Plus, Astoria and Draco hadn’t waited to be _intimate_ before their marriage.

 

Isabella and Astoria couldn’t have been more different. Isabella had upheld the old pureblood ways, not having sex before marriage because you were only supposed to experience that moment with your husband. Astoria had given it up after a month, from what she could remember. It might have been after three dates because the way Astoria talked about sex made her blush. It was obvious she was more experienced than her.

 

“Are you…are you jealous?” she asked nervously. The thought made her laugh.

 

Astoria, jealous of _her_?

 

She had Draco wrapped around her finger. Isabella looked up to Astoria. She had met Blaise by chance while he was traveling through Spain. When he asked her to come back to England with him the first couple she met were Draco and Astoria.

 

She could remember the way they seemed to merge into one. The way he was always by her side and how they looked at each other as if there was never anyone else in the room. Their love had been what she looked for in Blaise. She had found herself copying Astoria’s mannerisms when she wasn’t around and her wardrobe, desperately wanting to fit in.

 

Astoria scoffed. “Jealous? Jealous that you’re going to turn fat in a few months and then that _thing_ is going to tear up your body, turning you into a haggard old woman while I stay young?”

 

Isabella watched as Astoria pulled out her wand, pointing it straight at her. Her heart started to beat rapidly in her chest and the nervousness made her drop her own wand, now, both hands protectively held her flat stomach.

 

She knew Astoria was lying. She could remember more than eight months back, Astoria opened up to her just once. She had showed up at the Zabini house, tears in her eyes because she had thought she was pregnant but instead had calculated the days of her cycle wrong. Isabella had let the blonde weep on her shoulder, mascara staining her beige dress from her heavy tears.

 

Sparks shot out of her wand, missing Isabella by mere centimeters.

 

“You’re scaring me,” she whispered, eyes wide from fear as she pushed her chair back. “What is wrong with you?”

 

A smirk was plastered on her lips and she placed her wand down, reaching for her glass of water and took a small sip. “You’re not indestructible Isabella, remember that.”

 

She pushed her chair back in, eyeing Astoria confusedly. “I don’t…understand. What are you saying?”

 

She shrugged and placed her glass back down, sighing. “Just don’t get your hopes up,” she said quietly.

 

Her eyes flickered to Isabella’s hands that were still pressed on her stomach.

 

-x-

 

The clock ticked and Draco had half a mind to finally stand up from where he was seated on the black settee and start rummaging around the room to look for it. It wasn’t on any of the walls. He had examined each of them, staring at them whenever he didn’t want to glance at Astoria or Lucien during the session.

 

The clock wasn’t on Lucien’s desk that was covered with two neat stacks of parchment, an inkpot and several colorful quills. There were no pictures on his desk. Draco found himself often wondering during the stretch of silence if Lucien had a family. If he was married and sincerely understood what it was like to have a relationship like he did with Astoria.

 

“Are both your parents married?” Lucien asked, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair.

 

Draco knew Lucien’s mannerisms. He knew that he liked to tap his fingers on things to try and break the silence in the room. Sometimes he scribbled things down on parchment but that was rare they rarely talked. Most of the time he just sat back and stared at them.

 

Draco found himself wondering what Lucien saw when he looked at him and Astoria. Did he see how broken he was? How he just wanted to offer him all the galleons he had and whatever else he wanted to try and bring back the woman that was wasting away before his eyes.

 

Whenever he glanced at Astoria he was stuck with the odd feeling that he didn’t know who the Astoria sitting there was. She didn’t look remotely familiar. She didn’t even smell the same. It was obvious she must have been skipping meals, robes hanging off of her, hair hanging limp and face grey.

 

He had to use his imagination to connect _that_ woman to the one that he remembered as his wife.

 

“Yes,” he answered, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Both of our parents are married. Her father passed away a few years ago but her mother is still around. Both my parents are still alive.”

 

Draco often found himself rambling, adding extra information where it was not needed because he couldn’t handle the ticking of the clock anymore.

 

“Do they know about your sessions? About your problems?”

 

“No,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to talk about my parents,” he whispered tightly. Lucien raised his eyebrow.

 

“Does anyone?”

 

“No. Yes. Sort of. My friend recommended us to come to therapy to fix our problems…”

 

“So, you talk to your friend about your problems?”

 

“No. I don’t,” he paused for a moment, thinking of the night Blaise had told him about couples therapy. He had laughed it off and scolded _him_ for going himself. “We talked about this already. We talked about how we first decided to come to you.”

 

“Your friend, he’s married too?” Lucien pressed on, ignoring the squirm from Draco and glanced over his notes. “He asked you both to be the godparents to his child?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How does that make you feel? To know that he’s having a child when you have said you would like to have had children by now, Draco?”

 

How did it feel? How did _he_ feel? He felt like pulling out his wand and hexing Lucien. He wanted to take his fist and plant it right to the side of Lucien’s head, wanted to watch the man fall to the floor in pain so he could feel what he was feeling. Didn’t he realize how hard it was for him? Didn’t he realize how uncomfortable it was for him to share his feelings?

 

Draco bit his lip and then sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

 

“Then what _do_ you want to talk about Draco? Astoria, would you like to add anything?” She shook her head limply in response.

 

“What about my parents?” he asked, an edge to his voice. He could not take the silence. He did not want to sit in the room and let the silence engulf him any longer.

 

“Can you open up to them?”

 

He didn’t respond. Lucien pursed his lips and scribbled something down on the parchment next to him.

 

“We’ll end here today,” he said brightly, rubbing his hands together. “Your assignment is to open up to someone important to you in your life. I want you to seek guidance from them or comfort. Sometimes you need your family to support you,” he murmured, staring directly at Draco.

 

Unnerved, Draco nodded and stood up, walking quickly towards the door.

 

“Draco, Astoria, before you go. I would like to do separate sessions with each of you.” Draco turned to look at Astoria, her face expressionless. He really didn’t think a separate session would change anything.

 

She was too far gone.

 

-x-

 

Draco tumbled out of the fireplace, brushing off the soot that was sprinkled on his shoulders. The room he had fallen in was silent for a few mere seconds before someone rushed in, arms thrown in the air and yells emitting from their mouth.

 

“Malfoy!” The voice yelled shrilly. “You’ve just dirtied your mother’s clean floor. The poor carpeting—“

 

“Hello to you too Daphne,” he said, giving her a grin and rolling his eyes.

 

She stood before him, hands on her hips, tapping her foot impatiently.

 

“Sorry,” he pulled out his wand and muttered _Scourgify_ , the dirt from underneath him disappeared instantly. “Why are you even in my parent’s house? Don’t you ever go _home_ ,” he asked, giving her look.

 

Daphne huffed and crossed her arms against her chest. “Some brother-in-law you are. Where’s my sister anyway? I haven’t seen her in weeks and for your information your mother invited me to lunch. Is Astoria coming? Hm?”

 

Draco rolled his eyes and pushed past Daphne but she kept trailing behind him like a lost puppy. She was the sister he had never wanted. She was always making jabs at his ego.

 

“Your sister is home…I suppose. Where is my father?”

 

“He’s not in his study and I won’t tell you unless you tell me what’s going on with Astoria. She hasn’t responded to any of my letters.”

 

Draco turned around slowly and raised his eyebrow, staring at the brunette with interest.

 

While Astoria slender and her face had sharper features, Daphne’s face was rounder. Her cheeks were always red from excitement and her brown eyes were always shining with glee. She was the more playful of the two, though Astoria had some of her sister’s qualities years ago.

 

“When have you written her?”

 

Daphne shrugged her shoulders and twirled her wand in her fingers. “Oh, you know, I always write her about something. I need to talk to someone about my love life, don’t I? Unless of course you want to hear about the dirty details from when I met Gregory Goyle in the Leaky Cauldron in room—“

 

Draco groaned. “Merlin forbid I’d ever want to hear about any of that. I’ll find my father myself.”

 

He turned around again and started walking down the corridor to his father’s study. Just because she _said_ he wasn’t there didn’t mean he wasn’t actually there.

 

Daphne had a tendency to lie about things.

 

“Did I hit a soft spot Draco?” she giggled and poked him in the back with her wand. “Are you having marriage troubles?” Draco tensed at the question and quickened his pace, his steps booming against the wooden floor underneath him. “Can’t please dear Stori in bed?” she taunted, much to his annoyance.

 

He couldn’t remember the last time they were in bed together. He hadn’t seen her much except for their therapy sessions and each time he laid eyes on her he was fearful of what he saw. She was wasting away right before his eyes.

 

He was practically jogging down the corridor with Daphne at his heels.

 

“You don’t care much for boundaries,” he responded, making a quick stop. Not expecting it, Daphne tumbled into him and then fell to the floor with a shout.

 

“You’re a moody arse,” she huffed. He reached his hand out towards her and helped pull her up. “Lucius is in the garden. He said our giggling was going to drive him insane if he stayed inside any longer. You tell my sister if she doesn’t start responding to my letters I’m going to barge into Malfoy Manor with bells and whistles on.”

 

Draco waved his hand at her and started to walk back down the way they come from. “Barge in all you like,” he mumbled, “maybe you can get through to her.”

 

He yelled ‘goodbye’ to Daphne who walked off in the opposite direction. Draco was glad to be rid of his sister-in-law. She reminded him too much of what he didn’t have anymore.

 

He walked in silence, stomping down the corridor like he used to when he was a child. He still felt odd visiting his parents in a house that wasn’t Malfoy Manor. Sometimes, when he came home he would imagine his parents were waiting for him. His mother in the gardens and his father in his study, reading the _Daily Prophet_ and mumbling under his breath angrily about what was wrong with the Wizarding World.

 

According to him there were a lot of things.

 

After a few more minutes of walking, Draco opened the mahogany glass doors that lead to the small garden his mother tended to, eyes targeting the white hair of his father who was leaning back in a white chair, scribbling something into a book.

 

“Father?”

 

He turned his head at the voice, wrinkled face breaking out into a grin as he laid eyes on his son.

 

“Draco, thank goodness. Giggling women have surrounded me all day today, about to drink myself into a tea coma. Whenever your mother and Daphne get together I find myself forced to hide out unless I want my ears to bleed.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes at his father’s dramatics. He pulled out a chair opposite of him and sat down, admiring the blooming yellow peonies behind him.

 

He didn’t know how he was supposed to tell his father that his marriage was crumbling. That it was so far gone Draco was losing hope and was almost certain that Astoria had slipped out of his fingers.

 

“Draco, are you listening to what I’m saying?”

 

Draco blinked at the question. He hadn’t heard what his father was saying. He was still looking at the peonies. There were none in Astoria’s garden. She favored her rose bushes above anything else and had taken to removing most of the other plant life during their marriage.

 

“What’s wrong Draco?” His father’s voice was filled with worry, brows knit together in concern.

 

Draco stared at him, remembering what his father used to say to him when he was younger. When he was scared to become a Death Eater and nervous about killing Dumbledore.

 

 _Are you a man_?

 

That was always his question. _Are you a man, Draco?_ It would come out low and harsh, making his insides shake with fear.

 

He wouldn’t answer but instead avert his eyes from his father’s grey cool ones and the question would haunt him at night, making him toss and turn in bed, seeping into his nightmares.

 

It made his mind unravel and he would lay awake for hours upon hours in the dark, repeating the question in his head.

 

_Are you a man? Are you a man?_

“Draco?” he pressed, leaning forward in his chair.

 

Draco looked over at the peonies again. They were named after the Greek God of medicine and healing. He could remember the soft voice of his mother when he was younger, telling him about the flowers, explaining the magic and the beauty of each and every single one in her garden.

 

He wondered if he plucked the largest one out of the bunch and gave it to Astoria if it would heal her.

 

“My marriage is over,” he whispered, looking into his father’s worried eyes. “I don’t…I don’t think my wife loves me anymore.”

 

Wind blew, shaking the trees that were blocking the sun from where they were sitting. A few leaves were falling down on his father’s head. He didn’t bother brushing them away. He stared silently at Draco, at a loss of what to say.

 

His question had vanished throughout the years, once he had been thrown in Azkaban, pulling at his long hair and crying for the first night in his cell.

 

Because Lucius had realized what was a Malfoy man without a good woman beside him?

 

Nothing.

 

He watched in silence as Draco dropped his head in his hands, broken.

 

-x-

 

The house was quiet, that was the first thing that Daphne noticed as she stepped out of the fireplace and dusted the soot off of her black cloak.

 

“ _Astoria!_ ” she shouted loudly, listening to hear if her sister was rushing towards her from another room. She waited tentatively but heard nothing, a frown on her face.

 

Daphne walked slowly towards the gardens, the place her sister normally was whenever she visited but she found that no one was there. Her eyes scanned the large gardens, noticing the normally green grass was brown and the roses hung limp, wilting.

 

She pursed her red lips together and walked with determination towards her sister’s bedroom, hills clicking on the floor loudly. She had been serious when she told Draco she would stop by if Astoria didn’t respond to her letters.

 

She had sent another owl three days ago, eagerly waiting for her sister’s response and reaction to the fact that she had _accidentally_ slept with Gregory Goyle _again_. She couldn’t help herself. Daphne loved a man with an appetite.

 

“Stori? _Stori!_ Where are you?” Her voice was filled with worry as she called out for her sister.

 

She pulled her wand out of her pocket, trying to figure out if there was some sort of tracking spell but she couldn’t think of one at the moment. She couldn’t concentrate on one spell. They kept flitting through her mind as she wondered where her sister could be.

 

“Hello?” she called out. “Are you here?”

 

As Daphne slipped off her heels, slinging them in her hands, feet embracing the soft beige carpet, ready to search room after room of Malfoy Manor for as many hours as she had to, she heard a slight shuffle coming from the bathroom.

 

Daphne let her heels drop to the floor and slowly put her wand back into her pocket, pushing back a piece of her dark brown hair behind her ear. She nervously opened the bathroom door, peering inside.

 

She gasped, eyes falling on her sister who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at herself in a floor length glass mirror. She clasped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying out in shock and shook slightly as her eyes examined her younger sister.

 

She wore only a white slip but it was hanging off her body like it was meant for a large woman. Her body was slender, thin, and bony, more like a child’s. Her ribs were visible whenever she took a shallow breath and her blonde hair was showing brown at the roots.

 

Her natural hair color was something Daphne hadn’t seen since her sister had come of age and fought with her parents about becoming blonde because she thought blondes had better luck with men.

 

Daphne fell to her knees, not caring that she was crawling on the white tiled floor. Her plump hands reached out to her sister’s thin ones that were wrapped around her wand tightly.

 

“D-Daphne?” she whispered, turning her head to look at her.

 

It was quick but the look made Daphne’s stomach clench. Astoria’s blue eyes were cold and lifeless. All shine that they normally held was gone.

 

“Astoria, what has happened to you? What’s going on?” she questioned, looking around the room for a sign of something, anything that would explain to her what happened to her sister.

 

“I’m…I’m supposed to tell someone,” she whispered. “I’m supposed to tell someone…” She rocked back and forth slightly, dropping her wand to the ground and placing her fingertips to her dry lips instead.

 

“Talk to me Astoria, tell me. You were supposed to talk to whom? What happened?” Daphne asked, pressing her sister gently. “Did…did Draco do this to you?”

 

At her husband’s name, Astoria’s neck snapped and she stared at her sister, a scowl on her face. She turned back to the mirror and gripped her wand, pointing it at her reflection. She snapped to attention and blinked her eyes, trying to see something.

 

“I’m supposed to tell someone,” she murmured. “I’m supposed to tell someone my marriage isn’t… _working_ ,” she struggled to say the word and spit on the mirror forcefully. “I’m supposed to go to someone for advice. I’m supposed to learn how to fix this. I’m supposed to fix this. I’m supposed to… _diffindo,_ ” she whispered, bringing her wand shakily to her long hair and cutting it off at the nape of her neck. She moaned and then hissed as if she was in pain, watching as locks of hair fell to the floor.

 

“Hello,” she said to her reflection. “Hello, hello, _hello_ …Astoria,” she whispered. Her voice sounded sad, disappointed. She looked at herself as if she was noticing herself for the first time.

 

Daphne watched in shock, unable to move or say anything as Astoria’s greasy blonde hair fell down her back, towards the floor, leaving her with a short cropped look that reminded Daphne of a dirty beggar.

 

She stared at herself in the mirror, cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips, blinking three times.

 

“How am I supposed to fix anything when I can’t even fix myself?” she asked her reflection. One hand shot out towards the mirror, touching the glass lightly. “Daphne,” she whispered, “I’m looking for answers. Do you have any?”

 

Daphne placed her hand on her sister’s back, felt her bones and shivered. “I don’t know what you’re asking me Astoria.”

 

Astoria laughed hollowly to herself and pointed her wand at the mirror.

 

No one understood her.

 

Daphne screamed as the mirror exploded, shards of glass showering them.


	6. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He finds that love is pain too. Love embodies all three. It is because of love that he is hurting. But it is only with love that he can heal.

_Blue colored fairy lights made the white tent glow under the stars as Draco smiled at his wife, twirling her as they danced. They were man and wife, had been bonded for one twenty minutes now and neither of them could wipe the smiles off of their faces._

_“Draco?” Her voice was soft and a small smirk played on her lips as he held her waist._

_“Yes, Mrs. Malfoy?”_

_She crinkled her nose. It hadn’t settled in yet that she was Mrs. Malfoy. The title made her think of her new mother-in-law._

_“I think you have an admirer. Don’t look!” He turned his head to look at the direction she was looking at over his shoulder but Astoria smacked his arm and pursed her lips, giving him a glare. “I said don’t look. Don’t make it obvious. I think Pansy might corner you before the day is over and obliviate your mind so you’ll forget all about me.”_

_Draco laughed, pulling her closely towards him._

_“Someone sounds jealous,” he whispered, “of someone that has always just been my friend.” Astoria rolled her eyes at this. “Fine. She might have also been my admirer but that was years ago.”_

_“I’m not jealous,” she retorted, blushing. “But if I was…” She let her sentence trail off and hang between them momentarily._

_Before he could say anything else, someone bumped Draco from behind and he turned around, accepting the apology that came from his parents. His father was always a bad dancer._

_“You do realize you’re my wife. That we just bound ourselves together for eternity.”_

_She wrinkled her nose and laughed. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything.” He raised his eyebrow. “We didn’t make an unbreakable vow. There’s always going to be outside forces that are trying to tear us apart.”_

_He was going to make a comment that he thought their wedding vows were unbreakable but if she needed to be reassured he would go sacrifice his life to prove his faithfulness to her._

_Instead, his grey eyes flitted across the makeshift dance floor and towards the white round tables, eyes locking onto Pansy Parkinson, wearing a tight fitting red dress, who was laughing and hanging onto the arm of a man that Draco didn’t recognize._

_Draco shivered as he felt teeth tug on his earlobe gently._

_“You don’t want to see me jealous,” Astoria whispered innocently. “I get a little crazy…”_

_-x-_

The Healers said physically Astoria would be alright. Mentally, Daphne wasn’t so sure. She could no longer recognize her sister. The person she saw on the bathroom floor was a dark soul she was not accustomed too.

 

Astoria was Daphne’s light. She had been the strong one when their father had died out of the blue in his sleep. He hadn’t even been sick, he was just always tired and Daphne worried if Astoria was experiencing the same thing. If she was struggling against the tiredness so death would not take her away.

 

She wasn’t sure if she wanted her sister on this earth if this was how she was going to act. She didn’t want her to feel so much pain.

 

Daphne opened the door to the room Astoria was resting in slowly. She didn’t know if her sister would be up or sleeping like she was supposed too but Daphne didn’t care. She _had_ to see her.

 

The glass had effected Astoria more than Daphne since she hadn’t been right in front of it. She had watched with horror as it cut Astoria’s face and arms, blood trickling from each separate cut, even scraping her eyes. Daphne had sprung up and tried to vanish whatever glass she could before she apparated nervously to St. Mungo’s, certain she was going to splinch herself and then that would be the end to the Greengrass sisters.

 

The room was a bright white. Astoria was laying back on the bed, eyes closed as Daphne approached her. There was a lime green chair next to the bed and she sat down, shakily slightly as her eyes roamed Astoria’s body.

 

The Healers had said she was malnourished. They had to give her strengthening potions, a blood-replenishing potion because the loss of blood was too great due to her frail body and had watched her eat ravenously before they would leave the room.

 

“Daphne?” she questioned, opening her blue eyes slowly to see her sister.

 

Daphne felt near tears. She tucked a piece of her brown hair behind her ear and stared sadly at Astoria. Her physical appearance was fine. There were no more cuts on her body and her eyes were no longer bloodshot, reminding Daphne of pictures she had seen of vampires when she was in school. They had even cleaned Astoria and changed her. Her now short hair was shining and her white cheeks had a tint of a healthy pink glow.

 

“You scared me Astoria,” she whispered, reaching her hands out to grab her sister’s. They felt warm to her touch.

 

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I think I scared myself too.”

 

Before anything else could be said, the door to the room shot open and in walked a short stout woman in lime green robes.

 

“Good!” she shouted. “You’re up. Drink this,” she rushed towards Astoria and handed her two vials of bubbling purple liquid.

 

Astoria scowled as she drank it, insides filling with warmth.

 

Daphne and the Healer watched as more color found itself on Astoria’s face, making her look less like a ghost and more like her normal self. Her bones were beginning to disappear.

 

“Nourishment potion,” the Healer said at Daphne’s questioning gaze. “Quickest way for her to gain some weight. We’re keeping you for another hour and then you’re free to go home. I’d keep an eye on her if I was you.”

 

The Healer shuffled back out the room and silence found the two sisters again.

 

“What happened Astoria? I don’t understand what happened. Make me understand.”

 

Astoria’s eyes flickered and she stared down at her hands sadly. “I’m fine Daphne.”

 

“No you’re not!” she shouted angrily. Her eyes were filling with tears. “If you were fine you wouldn’t be here. Draco—“

 

“You didn’t tell him I’m here, did you?” she asked harshly.

 

Daphne found herself moving her hands away from Astoria. The pure anger in her face scared her and she found herself leaning back, far away from her.

 

“Of course I did but I told him it was best that he didn’t see you like this. Did he do this to you?”

 

“No,” she whispered tightly. “I did this to me.” She smiled at her sister but it was obvious that it was strained, making Daphne uncomfortable. “I… _we_ have been going to couples therapy and I was supposed to seek comfort from someone. Will you comfort me?” she asked lightly, a look of hope on her face.

 

Daphne reached her hands out towards Astoria’s again. “Of course. I’m here. No matter what.”

 

Astoria closed her eyes and took a deep shaky breath. “I need you to fix me,” she whispered. “I don’t care how you do it. You can obliviate my mind, torture me or hit me over the head. I cannot live like this anymore,” she said angrily, her hand shaking slightly.

 

Daphne squeezed it, tears falling freely from her eyes. “I…don’t think I can do that Astoria.”

 

“Why not?” she asked. “Draco doesn’t understand. He’ll never understand. You…you have to help me Daphne,” her eyes glazed over and she gripped her sister’s hand, whispering hysterically. “You said you would help me. He’s going to leave me and I’ll lose everything. _Everything_. I’ll have nothing. Do you want me to have nothing?”

 

“Draco would never leave you,” she said matter-of-factly. Her mind drifted to her brother-in-law who had showed up to St. Mungo’s anyway and had shouted at every Healer he came across that wasn’t tending to his wife.

 

“He is. He will. It’s happening. But…but you’re healthy Daphne. I’m not…you could help me. Protect me from him leaving me. I’ll never have to worry if you help me. I can’t…I can’t help myself. I can’t do it myself. If I could I would have done it long ago.”

 

“Do what? Explain yourself sister.”

 

Astoria stared at her but Daphne wasn’t sure she was actually looking at her. Her eyes were glossy, she had a far-away expression on her face.

 

“I can’t give him a child.” Her hand squeezed Daphne’s tightly, her voice was cold. “But you can. He’ll never know,” she whispered, pushing her upper body off of the bed and leaning closely towards Daphne’s ear. “He’ll never know it’s not mine.”

 

Daphne couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wrenched her hands from her sister and stood up quickly, knocking the chair she was sitting on to the floor.

 

“Are you asking me to seduce your husband?” she questioned with disgust. She spit on the shining white floor, wiping her mouth, bile rising in her throat. “I would _never_. You…you’ll get stronger and then…it’ll happen. You just need to get stronger,” she repeated the sentence again, staring at Astoria with pity.

 

Before she could say anything else or ask the Healers to check her sister for mental instability the door creaked open and Daphne sighed with relief, thankful that someone else was there. She smiled weakly at the woman that shuffled in.

 

“Isabella.”

 

Isabella nodded at Daphne and then looked at Astoria. “I heard you were sick. I wanted to see if you were doing well,” she mumbled nervously.

 

Daphne found it odd her hand was clutching her wand as she spoke to Astoria. She watched as Astoria’s eyes flitted over Isabella’s body, falling on her wand.

 

Astoria gritted her teeth and then growled, “Get out.”

 

Isabella’s brown eyes flashed with worry and she turned her head, staring at Daphne. “B-but…I was just…I wanted…”

 

“ _GET OUT!_ ” Astoria shouted, grabbing the empty potion vials that the Healer had left by her bed. She threw the first one at Isabella, the glass breaking in front of her feet.

 

Isabella shouted with fear, frozen on her spot. She shook, hand still gripping her wand with eyes open wide from shock.

 

“ _I HATE YOU! GET OUT!_ ” Astoria yelled again.

 

She crouched on her knees on the bed, standing as tall as she could given the position and threw the next vial at Isabella. This time it smashed on the wall behind her, glass shining on the white floor.

 

Daphne rushed at her sister, trying to restrain her from getting up. Astoria struggled against her hold, screaming curses at Isabella.

 

“Get out!” Daphne shouted, howling because Astoria bit her hand. “Get out _now_!”

 

Isabella rushed out with terror, the glass crunching underneath her feet as she ran over it. Daphne was holding Astoria’s shoulders, her face dripping with sweat. She dropped her head on her sister’s shoulder, tears coating Daphne’s navy blouse.

 

“It isn’t fair,” she cried, “I want a baby and she gets to have one. I want one Daphne.” Her wails were loud and feverish, she balled up her hands into fist and punched her stomach roughly. “Why can’t they fix me Daphne? Why does it hurt so much?” Her voice was quiet, hollow. “Tell me,” she pleaded, holding her sister’s shaking hand, “that it’ll be okay.”

 

Daphne looked into Astoria’s blue watery eyes.

 

“I can’t. I don’t know if it will be,” she said.

 

Astoria laid her head on her shoulder again and wept loudly.

 

She deserved to have a child, to be a mother and not Isabella. Isabella was fragile and cried at the drop of a hat if she thought someone was making fun of her. Isabella hadn’t even been married that long to her husband. She hadn’t had to deal with pain, no, her relationship was perfect while Astoria _strived_ for perfection. She had been through more pain that was necessary for any woman to handle.

 

If Astoria could not have a child than Isabella should not be able too either. If she was a real friend she would have never told her, never dangled that soft baby bootie wickedly in front of Astoria’s cold blue eyes. She could have pretended she got fat and that would have been fine with Astoria but no, she had to throw it in her face.

 

“I wish she would die,” she said, a snarl painted on her lips as Daphne held her. “It isn’t fair. What have I done to deserve this while she gets all the glory?”

 

The Healers told her it is not her fault. That nothing can be done. She is just too weak. By being too weak she knows that it is her fault so she must resist real emotion and live on the anger and pain, it is what makes her strong, even if it means hurting the others around her.

 

As her eyes flutter shut she can see in her minds eye Isabella with her hand on her stomach. Astoria is not surprised that she thinks she could kill her, strangle her with her hands because it would be that much sweeter than killing her with her wand.

 

She would like to see her broken. Only to know that others can break just like her. That she isn’t the only weak woman out there.

 

She is like glass, fragile but sharp once it is shattered into pieces.

 

-x-

 

Draco opened the door to Lucien’s office, not bothering to knock. He wanted to catch Lucien off guard. See if the man did anything besides sit in his chair all day and tap his fingers or quill.

 

Lucien was sitting back in his chair, one leg up and crossed over the other, tapping his fingers and smiling at Draco, clearly waiting for him.

 

“I know you were looking for Astoria,” he explained, walking towards his normal spot on the settee, “but she’s a bit under the weather.”

 

Saying she was ‘under the weather’ was a huge understatement. Draco hadn’t slept in four days, the memory of his wife laying in St. Mungo’s, passed out with cuts all her over face caused his heart to beat in his chest at a higher than normal pace. He was haunted whenever he closed his eyes and saw her because he knew it was _his_ fault.

 

“That’s alright Draco. I hope she recovers quickly,” he said, uncrossing his legs and placing his feet on the ground. “Where would you like to begin today?” he asked pleasantly.

 

Draco forced himself to not roll his eyes. He was tired of Lucien. He wasn’t doing anything and Draco sincerely thought the man was only making his life worse instead of better. He crossed his arms against his chest and took a deep breath.

 

“All I want to know is if our marriage is going to be remotely okay by the time we’re done with this,” he said, rubbing his arm nervously.

 

“I can’t promise anything Draco.” He managed to say while scribbling something down on a piece of parchment next to him. “Do you think you can have a happy marriage?” he questioned quietly, not looking up from what he was writing.

 

Draco grunted in response and then realized for once the clock that normally ticked wherever it was wasn’t ticking. He wanted to know why but didn’t ask, afraid that the ticking would start up again and drive him mad.

 

He was starting to get extremely agitated with Lucien. He was tired of being stuck in the small room with the one window that barely let any breeze in. He was always sweating inside the room, having to wipe his brow every five minutes and peel himself off of the settee at the end of the session.

 

Draco tapped his foot, sweat dripping down his face and gave Lucien a pointed look. “I don’t know. Are you married?” he questioned, squinting as a drop of sweat fell in his eye.

 

Lucien shook his head and then held up his hand, pointing to his bare ring finger. “Nope. Haven’t met the right person.”

 

Draco sighed and nodded his head. “Never get married. Marriage is a disappointment.”

 

“Why is that Draco?”

 

“Because you can never be sure if the person you’re with is going to make you happy. When you’re single or you’re dating you can end it before you get in too deep and things start to go wrong. When you’re married you can’t just walk away.”

 

“Do you want to walk away Draco?” he asked quietly, quill raised.

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” he murmured, staring down at his feet. “I love my wife but when I see all these happy couples I can’t help but think I made a wrong choice. I picked the wrong person or someone out there is punishing me because I was such a horrible person years ago.” He dropped his head in his hands and gave a muffled scream.

 

Lucien waited patiently for five minutes for Draco to say something but he just kept his head down and his fingers wrapped in his hair, pulling at blonde pieces of it.

 

“Draco—“

 

“We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together,” he whispered. “We were supposed to be _happy_. We had a plan. I find myself asking what happened to this plan but nothing has happened to it. We’ve been stuck in the same place for months while everyone else is…happy and beginning the next chapter of their life. _We_ were supposed to have a baby first, not them.”

 

“Who Draco? Who is _them_?” he asked apprehensively.

 

Draco looked up, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing, cursing himself for getting so lost in his thoughts and his anger that he hadn’t realized what he was saying but Astoria wasn’t there. He had a confidentiality agreement with Lucien, no one would ever know what he was about to say next.

 

“You know Draco, you need to learn to let things go. You’re bottling everything up inside and it’s overwhelming you. I’m here to listen. Tell me what’s bothering you. It seems that you and Astoria both need to work on your communication skills.”

 

He knew it was the truth but it made him wince uncomfortably. He still wasn’t completely ready to spill his heart out just to get his feelings shoved back in his face.

 

“Astoria does seem lovely Draco,” Lucien mused quietly, “behind all the pain.”

 

“Pain? What are you insinuating? I don’t hurt her. She’s my wife.”

 

Lucien waved his hand in protest. “You misunderstood me. I’m just complimenting your wife. There are some emotional things that she needs to work on but let’s not get off topic. You were saying?”

 

“No. We’re going to talk about this now. You don’t understand how hard it is. I don’t harm her. I don’t beat her. I _love_ her and she acts like I don’t. Women are bloody stressful.”

 

“I realized that many years ago,” he said with a chuckle. “Do you think she has a reason to be unhappy?”

 

“Let’s see. She’s married to me, I was kind of a big deal when I went to Hogwarts. Lives in a Manor, a manor, do you know how many people live in manors? Not many. I give her whatever she wants and needs, whatever she asks for.”

 

“And what does she give you?”

 

His head swims with thoughts of Astoria. The way she sneers at him. The way she yells at him while he really does give her everything. If she needed a kidney he burn his flesh off with the tip of his wand and hand it over to her without a second thought.

 

Shouldn’t that make her happy?

 

“And I listen to her,” he continued. “When she speaks of course which isn’t often. She keeps to herself a majority of the time. All she has to do is take care of me. We don’t even have children yet. I suppose her mood swings would get worse though but I’d manage.”

 

“You’ve been married for some time,” Lucien said slowly. “Are children part of your plan?”

 

He nodded his head and scratched the back of is neck. “My friend, the one that I mentioned before, Blaise?” Lucien nodded. “He and his wife, they’ve been married a little over a year and he found out only a few weeks ago that his wife is pregnant,” he swallowed and took a long pause.

 

Lucien resumed writing something with his quill and said, “How does that make you feel?”

 

Draco scowled. Feel? He didn’t want to talk about his _feelings_ anymore. He wanted to talk about things that didn’t matter, things that didn’t take any thought. Why couldn’t Lucien ask him about Quidditch or his work? Why didn’t Lucien ask Draco about his favorite color or hobbies instead of working his way inside of his heart and tearing at it, trying to find what made Draco hurt the most.

 

His anger was rising and he rubbed his temples, vision blurry as he tried to think of what he wanted to say.

 

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster. It is like a snake that slithers around waiting patiently for it’s prey. It can grow and grow into something so large and uncontrollable that it is hard to defeat it. It is hard to scurry away before the fangs snatch you and gobble you up whole.

 

He was defenseless against jealousy.

 

“I’m _happy_ about it,” he snapped. “So happy for him when I should have been the one with a child on the way. I should have been the one…it should have been me and Astoria. It was supposed to be three months into our marriage. We had a plan. A schedule and then he comes to me and he tells me that he’s expecting a child and it wasn’t planned. My wife…she won’t even let me _touch_ her and he expects me to be happy for him? He expects me to jump for joy at the idea of being the godfather to his child. Doesn’t he understand? Doesn’t he understand I’m jeal—“

 

Draco stopped abruptly. His eyes opened wide and his mouth shut tightly as his words, his thoughts and feelings finally bubbled to the surface.

 

He was jealous of Blaise. He was jealous of his happiness and his unborn child.

 

He was jealous of his godchild. A child that he was supposed to love and protect.

 

“I’m happy for him,” he mumbled unconvincingly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Extremely happy for him.”

 

-x-

 

Blaise Zabini found himself filled with fury as he stepped out of the fireplace in Malfoy Manor. His cloak was covered with soot but he didn’t care. His teeth were clenched with anger and his hands balled up into fists as he walked in the direction of Draco’s study.

 

He had come home to his wife hysterically crying on the floor in their bedroom. She had been banging her fist on the floor until they were bloody and it had taken Blaise twenty minutes to get her to stop, threatening the use of an unforgivable curse if she didn’t calm down.

 

_She tried to hurt me. Threw vials at my body. Her eyes targeted my stomach. She was close. So close Blaise…_

 

Isabella had cried in his arms, black streaks of her make-up traveling from her eyes down to her chin as she explained to Blaise what had happened to her.

 

He felt enraged. Horrified. It was a mix of emotions as he calmed her down and then told her he would get her a glass of water before he had grabbed his wand and cloak, bellowing ‘Malfoy Manor’ as he stood in his fireplace.

 

“Draco!” he shouted, throwing the door to his study open.

 

He looked up from behind his desk and arched his eyebrow, giving Blaise a confused look. He didn’t notice the way his hand was clenched around his wand or how his other hand was balled up into a fist, as if he was ready to attack anything that came his way.

 

“Were we meeting? I really don’t remember—“

 

Blaise growled like an animal and bared his teeth, kicking the side of Draco’s desk and then leaning towards his ear, shaking violently with anger.

 

“Your psychotic wife hurt my pregnant wife,” he spat out, spit coating the side of Draco’s face. He didn’t flinch as he turned to stare into Blaise’s dark angry eyes, a passive expression on his face as he waited to hear more. “She could have hurt my child!” he shouted.

 

Draco’s grey eyes filled with confusion. He hadn’t seen Astoria since he had visited her in St. Mungo’s before she woke-up. Daphne had sent him an owl saying Astoria would stay with her for a few days and Draco couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

 

He wasn’t ready to take care of her after his therapy session. If anything he wanted someone to take care of him. To tell him it was okay that he was jealous of his friend and of his unborn child.

 

That is was _normal_.

 

He knew it wasn’t normal.

 

“You don’t even care, do you? She could go around murdering people and you wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. This is your fault Draco. You let her get away with whatever the hell she wants. She told Daphne she’d like to kill her, strangle her neck and watch the life leave her eyes.”

 

His hand reached for his own wand that was laying on the desk. Heart beating wildly in his chest, he was certain he was going to attack Blaise because how dare he barge into his study, shouting about _his_ wife? About his perfect life?

 

Maybe Blaise deserved it. Maybe Isabella deserved whatever Astoria had done to her.

 

“My wife isn’t psychotic,” he snapped, rising out of his black leather chair. Blaise took two steps away from him and raised his wand, pointing it at Draco’s chest.

 

“She attacked a pregnant woman. I don’t care who you are Draco. I don’t care that you’re my best mate. I’d kill you. I’d kill you if anything happens to her or my child. Don’t you care?” he asked quietly, lowering his wand. “Don’t either of you care that this isn’t just my child but this is yours too. What kind of fucked up godparents are you?”

 

Draco threw his wand down and then fell in his chair, slamming his fist on his desk and emitted a bloodcurdling scream, making Blaise jump.

 

“I went to couples therapy because of your suggestion,” he seethed, “and now my marriage is nonexistent. I’m watching my wife tear herself apart and I don’t even understand why and I don’t think I’ll ever understand why and you have the audacity to come in here and blame me for her mistakes? To accuse me for not caring about my godchild? To think that I would purposely try to hurt your wife?”

 

Blaise swallowed as he watched Draco struggle to get his words out.

 

“It sickens me because you’re right,” he whispered. “It sickens me because if I could switch places with you I would in a heartbeat. No one asks me how I’m doing in this. No one cares how I’m doing. How I’m holding up. Maybe I want to throw myself a pity party.” His voice was low and his eyes weren’t looking at Blaise but staring straight at the open doorway.

 

He reached for his wand and then twirled it in his fingers. The candle that was on his desk flickered with each twirl.

 

“I can’t shake the feeling of jealousy every time I think of you and Isabella. Every time I think of the child that’s growing inside of her and is going to be yours soon.” Blaise sucked in his breath loudly and Draco looked at him, his grey eyes looking right into Blaise’s brown ones, a snarl on his lips. “Have I hurt your feelings? Am I upsetting you? Do I scare you?” he asked with false sweetness.

 

Blaise couldn’t respond. His heart pulsed as he gave Draco a cold hard menacing glare.

 

“Good,” he said with a smirk, “because I’m starting to scare myself. I could kill you,” he whispered, clutching his wand tighter, “because of my jealousy. I could hurt you. I shouldn’t be a godfather. I shouldn’t be a father. I shouldn’t be a husband.”

 

Blaise didn’t say anything. Instead he walked towards Draco. His fingers lightly tugged at the wand that was in his tight grip and pulled it away from him. He laid it on the desk, out of his reach and then placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder gently.

 

“You deserve so much better,” he said honestly.

 

Draco shook his head. He really wasn’t sure he believed that but then his thoughts shifted to his conversation with Lucien.

 

_Astoria seems lovely behind all that pain._

He didn’t understand then what he was insinuating. He doesn’t hurt Astoria. He has never laid his hand on her and has never done magic on her. She is the one that plays with his emotions. She is the one that screams at him and belittles him and tells him to go die in whatever hole he crawled out of. He is the one that gives her unconditional love while she gives him nothing.

 

There are different types of pain, he realizes. Physical pain is what he feels inside his chest, like someone has decided to plunge their hand right through his chest and dig their nails into his heart, it is slow and it is painful.

 

Emotional pain is what he experiences when he thinks back to the good times he and Astoria have shared. Faint smiles, butterfly kisses, whisperings of ‘I love you.’

 

Mental pain is what his wife does when she talks to him. She mentally hurts him, wears him down so his brain will break off into pieces one day and he will be mad just like her.

 

He finds that love is pain too. Love embodies all three. It is because of love that he is hurting. But it is only with love that he can heal.


	7. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was a marriage without trust?

** Trust **

_He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of the fireplace. Normally his wife rushed into the room, panting, having run from the garden or a far part of the manor, eagerly ready to greet him and ask about his day._

_Draco didn’t realize how much it mattered to him to see her the moment he came home, to look into her blue eyes and put his hands through her dirt covered blonde hair._

_He didn’t realize how much it meant to him until he didn’t see her rushing into the foyer waiting in silence by himself for five minutes, anticipating a late arrival. Draco glanced at his gold wristwatch, watching the second hand tick away. He didn’t hear her footsteps. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought his wife wasn’t even there._

_With a heavy heart he started his trek to their bedroom. He walked up the marble staircase and down the corridor, slipping his feet out of his shoes as he entered the lightly decorated bedroom._

_The original design had been darker. His parents had opted for a mixture of dark green and black. Astoria had argued they needed something light like beige and white. She said he didn’t need any more darkness in his life nor would they want it in their marriage._

_Astoria wasn’t in the bedroom. Draco examined the duvet with a critical eye but there were no wrinkles or any sign of life. He thought about entering the bathroom but figured if his wife was going about some womanly business he wouldn’t disturb her. He dropped his shoes by the side of the bed and then loosened his tie._

_In one swift motion he walked towards the sliding doors that led to their closet not paying attention as the doors magically opened. Instead, he fiddled with the buttons on his shirt with his both hands, struggling to unbutton them._

_As he stepped into the closet he heard a slight sniffle and he dropped his hands, turning his head to locate the source of the noise._

_In a dark corner, sitting cross-legged on the floor with bloodshot eyes, wringing a bloody handkerchief in her hands was Astoria. She stared glumly at Draco and sniffled, trying to wipe away her tears quickly._

_“Astoria, what’s the matter?” he asked with concern._

_Draco rushed towards her, forgetting his desire to get out of his work uniform and into something more comfortable. He crouched down next to her and tried to gently massage her shoulders._

_“Nothing!” she shouted, pulling away from him._

_Draco jumped, startled by the harshness in her tone. They had been married for two months and she had never yelled at him before. He counted to ten in his head before he reached out towards her again._

_“Obviously something is troubling you if you’re sitting here crying in the dark. Come on,” he said, nudging her softly, “tell me what’s wrong.”_

_She scoffed and threw down her handkerchief, smacked his hands away and got up from the floor, stomping towards the open doors._

_“Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything that happens to me or how I’m feeling every bleeding second of the day, Draco._

_Her eyes were dark, cold. Draco found himself staring at her with confusion, heart dropping in his chest. He didn’t know who this woman was. His wife didn’t yell. She didn’t curse. She never looked at him like he was the scum of the earth. His hands patted the carpet, unsure of where to go. He reached towards the dresses she had been sitting underneath as if they would tell him what was going on._

_“I think that’s what marriage is about Astoria,” he said quietly. “Don’t you trust me?”_

_She pursed her lips and stared at him coldly. “No,” she whispered, turning away from the doorway and rushing out of the closet._

_Draco couldn’t move. He sat there underneath her hanging dresses and fingered her lace handkerchief, not even questioning the blood._

_What was a marriage without trust?_

_Without honesty?_

_-x-_

On the outside it appeared like Astoria had undergone a total change. She had cleaned up her appearance, no longer hiding behind ridiculous floppy hats or large sunglasses. She was not swimming in clothes that were two sizes too big on her. Her short hair was no longer its unnatural blonde but back to its natural dark brown color.

 

Even her body seemed healthier, plump. Her cheeks were now tinged with warmth, slightly pink, that made her appear happier. During the day small smiles appeared on her face, mostly thanks to Daphne.

 

Astoria was sitting next to Draco and was giving Lucien an uneasy smile. It didn’t reach her eyes because it wasn’t real. In reality she hadn’t changed. If outsiders could hear her thoughts, read her mind, they would have realized Astoria had only gotten worse.

 

Two weeks had passed since her stint in St. Mungo’s.

 

With every fake smile she plastered on her face and the closer she got to Draco, placing her hand on his knee and rubbing it softly in small circles, the black hole that was inside of her stomach widened. Her skin felt like it was on fire with each loving caress. As if she was covered with a terrible rash and she had this constant itch but she couldn’t scratch herself because it would become further irritated.

 

She desperately wanted to reach for her wand. She wanted to shout every curse she knew from the top of her lungs and destroy everything in the room.

 

The clock in Lucien’s office was ticking and it was driving her mad. She was certain it wasn’t real. It was her subconscious making a mockery of her biological clock that didn’t tick inside of her anymore.

 

 _Tick tock, tick tock_.

 

Lucien smiled kindly at her. His lips were thin and dry and his teeth were slightly yellow and too large for his mouth. The smile looked award and Astoria wondered if he had on a façade as well. She wouldn’t have been surprised because who actually wanted to sit back and listen to other people drone on about their problems all day.

 

Draco’s finger twitched and he gently gripped her hand. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it back down, keeping her eyes locked on Lucien.

 

When she walked in she wondered if they would know it was all a game. The fake smile on her face was just a cover up and she had the capability to kill them both if she wanted too. How she _wanted_ to. She wanted to obliviate their minds or use an unforgivable on both men just so they could feel a faint sliver of her pain. She could _crucio_ them for days and still, it would not come close to how she was feeling.

 

“Today I want to talk about trust. It’s a key factor in all relationships. What do you have if you don’t have trust?” he asked, pointing a finger at Astoria.

 

Trust? What was trust in a relationship? Trust was nonexistent. Trusting someone meant giving them every piece of you, every last ounce of whatever you had. She could not trust Draco with the truth and she could not trust him with the pain.

 

The pain in her heart could not be removed. It would break completely into pieces if Draco knew. The blow would only make things harder and she would slip into a crazier state of mind if he got up and left her.

 

They had taken vows. They were bound together but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stray from her.

 

She had to count to three to stop herself from screaming.

 

“Nothing. You just have two people living, coexisting side by side but they’re not really _together_ ,” she said finally.

 

Draco squeezed her hand reassuringly and whispered that he was ‘proud’ she was finally opening up. There was a twinge of hope in his voice that made Astoria want to snap at him and snarl like an animal.

 

She eyed Lucien’s salt-and-pepper hair and the faint frown lines on the side of his mouth. He probably didn’t laugh much with a job like this.

 

“Sometimes we deal with situations that are beyond our control and you have to ask yourself, do you trust your spouse?” He coughed slightly, excusing himself as he summoned a glass and mumbled, _augamenti_ , taking a sip of water.

 

“Do you trust your husband, Astoria? Draco, do you trust your wife?”

 

She still couldn’t look at Draco but his hold on her hand tightened. The pain from his grip felt good. She almost felt numb to it. It was what she had been looking for the entire day.

 

Astoria was tried of feeling.

 

“Yes,” she answered brightly. “I trust Draco with all of my heart.”

 

To prove her statement true she brought their gripped hands towards her chest, momentarily letting their hands fall on her heart. She wondered idly if Draco could feel the nervous irregular thump in her chest.

 

Men were dogs. They were idiots. They trusted so easily. They fell for women’s wiles because they did not think that women could truly cause any harm or destruction.

 

“Draco?” Lucien questioned lightly. “Do you trust your wife?”

 

His hand shook slightly underneath Astoria’s and he pulled it away nervously.

 

“I…yes…” He said rather unconvincingly.

 

Astoria turned her head, eyeing her husband for the first time since she had entered the room. His eyes were dark, there were bags underneath them and his normally slicked back hair was slightly disheveled. He didn’t look sick but he definitely looked tired.

 

“Trust and honesty go hand in hand. This is a place where we don’t judge. We just listen. Is there something you would like Astoria to listen to?”

 

His grey eyes locked with her blue ones and he said confidently, “Yes.”

 

She quickly averted her eyes and busied herself by pretending to examine her nails. They were clean. There was no more dirt in the cracks of them. She had spent an hour trying to force herself to remove the dirt. Her sister had said once she bathed properly she would feel like a new person.

 

Astoria felt like the same person just in a different skin. One that sparkled but didn’t fit right. One that was able to conceal her real emotions.

 

 

“I trust you,” he said truthfully. “I really do but I trust the old you. The person I see today and not the person I have seen since we started fighting. I don’t understand why we’re having trouble. I don’t know what I did or what…you did.”

 

Astoria bit her tongue, forcing herself to not scoff. Of course he would think it was something that she did.

 

Really it was something she couldn’t do. She couldn’t give him what he desperately wanted. The image of his excited face when Blaise said he was having a child, the way he smiled broadly but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, kept haunting her. She had felt like she could hear his heart breaking inside of his chest. He always went on about wanting a little girl or a little boy.

 

“You have made it so hard Astoria. _So_ hard. You have managed to break my heart time and time again. I need you to stay with me. I need you here with me. I need my wife back for good. You are my family, _we_ are family and one day when we’ve figured everything out we’re going to bring another human being into our lives but we can’t do that until we’re on the same page.”

 

His voice broke towards the end and she found herself looking at him again, staring at his sad eyes and the pained expression on his face. If her heart wasn’t already broken, shattered into pieces and stowed away in a metal box she would have comforted him.

 

She knew what he wanted was for her to cry and reach out towards him. Draco wanted her to wrap her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. That she was here and she would be there for him forever.

 

All she could do was stare. She didn’t move closer to him. She didn’t try to grip his hand and give him false hope. She stared at him silently, examining each aspect of his face, the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose and the flare of his nostrils.

 

The clock ticked in the background reminding her of her anger, pain and struggle.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said hollowly. It was so faint that if Lucien and Draco hadn’t been waiting for a response from her they would not have heard it.

 

It was the first honest thing she had said and felt in their therapy sessions.

 

-x-

 

Draco thought the assignment they were given was simple enough. It felt almost like a game to him. After a handful of therapy sessions Astoria had suddenly undergone this amazing transformation. She was starting to feel like his again and was resembling the person she used to be.

 

_I’m sorry._

Sorry meant progress. Sorry gave him hope.

 

He found himself staring at her with wonder. He wanted to memorize every glance she gave him and every movement or change she underwent when they were together. If someone asked Draco to paint a portrait of his wife he would have been able to capture the tiniest features, right down to the faint twitch of her eye that you wouldn’t have noticed unless you stared at her for some time.

 

Draco struggled to push the settee Astoria was sitting on. He didn’t bother to take his wand out and make the process go quicker. According to Lucien, making an obstacle course of ‘trust’ was supposed to be simple. Draco found himself wiping away beads of sweat from his brow as he carried dining chair after dining chair, moving them around their sitting room.

 

Astoria sat quietly with a black scarf wrapped around her eyes. He kept stopping as he created his course and would wave his hands in front of her eyes, giddy with excitement because he knew she couldn’t see.

 

She didn’t respond to any of his waves but her nose kept wrinkling as she held onto the settee for dear life as Draco pushed it again.

 

“Hurry up already,” she said tiredly. She sounded slightly put off.

 

Draco hurriedly pulled out his wand and flicked it at a small table and chair, moving them around each other.

 

“Calm down,” he said with a grin. Even though she couldn’t see him his voice was clearly filled with excitement. He kept stopping to give her a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

 

“Please tell me your not embracing Muggle life now and doing everything without a wand,” she said with a huff.

 

“Just be patient.” His mouth was close to her ear and he chuckled as she visibly shivered by his breath on her.

 

“You have two minutes.”

 

He stared at the obstacle course around him. It wouldn’t be hard to guide her though with his direction. He had spaced out the chairs and tables enough so she wouldn’t hit them unless she decided to take enormous steps. Plus, he set up the furniture in a zigzag formation. He hoped that she would catch on and gingerly side step everything, walking right into his arms.

 

“Fine. Let’s begin. Can you see me?” he asked, waving his hand in front of her covered eyes for the tenth time in the last three minutes.

 

“No,” she groaned but it was filled with laughter instead of annoyance. “Thank Merlin. If all I had to do was blindfold myself I would have done this a long time ago.”

 

He rolled his eyes and gripped both of her hands, pulling her up. They stayed gripping each others hand for two minutes before Astoria pulled away.

 

“Oh, _really_ ,” he said with a smirk.

 

Astoria huffed and folded her arms against her chest. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I don’t _have_ to do this you know.”

 

“You said it, not me. Let’s just start slowly. You’re going to listen to my voice and my directions. We’re going to be very, very careful. I promise you won’t get hurt. Shuffle to your left. No, don’t turn, _shuffle_.”

 

Astoria cursed and Draco watched in amusement as she shook a tentative hop towards the left before hopping back to where she had originally been standing, toes gripping the sky blue carpet underneath her.

 

“What the bloody hell do you mean by shuffle?”

 

“You know,” he said, waving his hands in the air nonchalantly even though she couldn’t see him. “To the side.”

 

She cursed and took a small step to her left.

 

“Good. Now take a few steps forward.”

 

There was a chair right in front of her but with the baby steps she was taking she wouldn’t hit it, Draco was sure of it. He watched as she raised her left foot. It hovered in the air and paused, waiting for more instruction.

 

“How _many_ steps?”

 

He apologized, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Uh,” he mumbled, trying to calculate how many steps she needed to take before she walked right into the wooden dining chair, “three.”

 

She took three nervous steps forward, landing on the tips of her toes.

 

“You’re seriously going to have to do better than that Astoria,” he said drily. “You have to _trust_ me to guide you. This is what it’s all about.”

 

“You could be leading me to my death. Why did I have to go first?”

 

“Because,” he said, hopping around the furniture and leaning around the chair, giving her cheek a quick peck, “you offered. This means a lot to me. We’re nearly done. Who knew my wife would be willing to take direction from me? I wonder what else I could get you to do.”

 

Astoria blushed and Draco whistled with triumph. His grey eyes stared longingly at her body. It had been a long time since he had been able to touch her, let alone play with her without Astoria having a fit or insulting him to his very core. She was good at making him feel less like a man day by day.

 

“Left or right?” she questioned coolly.

 

Draco blinked, he had been staring at the way her lips moved and reached forward to plant his on hers but he knew it would be too premature. She could easily turn back to the woman with the bad attitude and lash out at him.

 

“Shuffle to the right twice.”

 

He watched her shuffle, her pink summer dress swishing slightly. It fell on her legs, mid-thigh, which jiggled slightly as she tapped her foot on her spot, waiting impatiently for more instruction.

 

He wanted to caress her thighs and bunch her dress up in his free hand.

 

“What next?” she asked, bringing him back to reality. If she could have seen him she would have noticed the lustful expression in his eyes that continuously trailed.

 

There were only four more chairs left and three more tables. A small leather black ottoman from his study had been placed awkwardly between a chair and a table. It was the only real obstacle she would have to leap over soon.

 

“Step forward slowly and then take a few steps to the left.”

 

She listened to his instructions, stepping idly forward and then confidently to the left.

 

“We should go on holiday,” he mused. “Wherever you want. France, we haven’t been to France in awhile or Italy. You love Italy. How about we go out to dinner?” he asked, reaching across a round mahogany table and gripping her two hands. They felt clammy to his touch.

 

Draco wanted to desperately show off his wife so people could see they were in love and happy once again.

 

“You know you can open up to me any time you want,” he said tightly.

 

His shoulders slumped because he was close to giving up as he could see the steam beginning to roll off of Astoria. He knew she wanted to open up to him, that the love was still there.

 

“What’s next?” she asked tightly, slipping her hands out of his.

 

“You can tell me what was going on Astoria. I won’t get angry or upset.”

 

His face fell and he tapped the table underneath him, anger filling his body. She kept rejecting his advances. She kept ignoring his ideas. Didn’t she realize he just wanted to be with her? Didn’t she realize that she was what kept him going? She was his _life_. It dramatic but it was the truth. His actions and thoughts were one of a younger teenager who thought they were in love with the first person they dated after a few stolen kisses after curfew.

 

“Forward, right.”

 

He didn’t bother to say how many steps and ignored the way she shakily stepped forward. Instead, Draco turned around from her and leaned on the table behind him. The sitting room had no portraits. The walls were painted a cool grey. Astoria had banished most of his family portraits to dark corridors, sections of the manor that Draco never ventured because they brought back painful memories.

 

He found himself begging to hear his annoying grandfather Abraxas shout at him for acting like a nervous wreck instead of the head of the house.

 

Draco whipped back around, the table wobbling from the force.

 

“Dinner?” he questioned. He watched as Astoria’s faint smile turned into a frown. “We can talk just like old times. Remember when we used to run off without telling anyone? We’d leave for days at a time and Daphne would cover for you. She never slipped up. Remember how we used to talk about our future together? The kids we would have—“

 

Quickly, Astoria cut him off. “What’s _next_?” she questioned hotly.

 

Draco didn’t respond. The harshness was back in her voice, though it wavered as if fighting to stay contained inside of her. He moved from the table and pulled out his wand, pointing it to the table that was closest to Astoria and placing it right in front of her, in her way. He continued to move his wand, his eyes glued to the frown on her face, each table he had was now placed next to the other, creating a small circle around her.

 

She couldn’t move forward or backwards. She was trapped and she didn’t even know it. It was just a game to her. She was playing with him and he was foolish to not realize it when they were in their therapy session.

 

“Do you not want kids with me?” he asked with a growl.

 

Draco advanced towards the circle, waiting for Astoria to say something. She fumbled around with her hands, balling up her dress in her fist and then dropping it quickly, only to shove her hands in her pocket and then repeat the process over again like a nervous tick.

 

“Is the idea of having a child with me that repulsive? Do I sicken you that much?”

 

He was leaning over one table, his arm on the cool surface as he spat out his words. His spit fell on the side of her cheek, making Astoria pause momentarily to wipe it away and cringe.

 

Draco laughed to himself, remembering the way he had hesitated at Lucien’s question. _Do you trust your wife_? No. He should have said no. He should have pushed her away from him and wiped back the tears.

 

She had given him no reason to trust her.

 

“What’s next?” she whispered shrilly, balling up her hands into fists again.

 

She couldn’t even answer his questions. She couldn’t even explain herself. No, she wouldn’t.

 

“Are you just trying to end our marriage? Do you not want to be married to me anymore? Tell me!” he demanded, banging the table underneath him with his fist. She flinched, hanging her head down.

 

“Stop it. What’s next?”

 

His eyes were cold as he pulled the table in front of him out of the way and stood in place of it.

 

“Turn to the left,” he whispered, “and walk forward.”

 

He wondered if she could feel his presence, if she knew she was going to walk right into him. She turned slowly and shook slightly as she walked right towards him, screaming as she bumped into his body. Her hands flew up to the scarf wrapped around her eyes and she fumbled to remove it, her screams breaking into loud sobs.

 

“You were lying,” he accused, staring into her watery eyes. His voice was sharp. “You don’t trust me. You don’t even care about me. Why do you hate me so much!” he yelled angrily, grabbing her as she tried to side step him and squeeze in between the small space he had left open.

 

She fought against his hold and then kicked him in the shin with as much force as she could muster, her face contorting into rage. She stood boldly in front of him as he hissed in pain.

 

“Let go of me!”

 

“No, not until you tell me what the hell is going on. Don’t raise your voice to me. Tell me what’s going on right now. Tell me,” he pleaded with the softest voice he could muster.

 

“Leave me the hell alone,” she commanded.

 

“No,”

 

“Contrary to what you believe I _don’t_ need you. I don’t need your money. I don’t need your pity and I damn well don’t need to please you. I’d rather be poor. I don’t care if my parents disown me. I don’t need you,” she repeated with a smirk on her lips. “I have never needed you. It’s you who needs me. Without me you’re nothing. You’re still the stupid little boy they talk about whenever the anniversary of the war comes up. The little Death Eater that was a coward. Even your parents are disappointed in you. I know you see the looks they give you. Never could be as successful as Harry Potter.”

 

She doesn’t say anything else, her eyes flash as she focuses on him and he’s forced to drop his gaze because it is too much to handle.

 

All he could do was gape at her, unable to form sentences. The war has been and will always be a tough subject for Draco. The first time he explained everything to Astoria, after she had said she loved him in the water, he had cried in front of her. He told her how much he regretted in his life.

 

She was about to be one of those regrets.

 

“You ask me why I hate you?” she said with false cheeriness, eyes shining brightly. “Let’s see…you _threaten_ me so I would go to therapy with you. You’re always whining on and on about how unhappy you are because of me. You’re the reason you’re unhappy,” she said, seething. “You’re the reason your life is crap.”

 

Draco didn’t move from where he was standing, still blocking her way out of the circle of tables. He glared and angrily pointed a finger at her heart. He was sure if he pressed his hand against her chest there would be nothing thumping against his hand.

 

“Keep it up Astoria,” he whispered in warning. “Think before you continue or else we’ll have bigger problems. You’re spoiled. That’s what you are and too bloody confidant. That dress you’re wearing? _I_ bought it for you. The food you eat. The shoes you wear. Everything you own, everything you need to stay alive, I give to you. What would you be without me? Dead,” he taunted.

 

She swallowed and then stepped boldly towards him. Their noses were touching. He could smell her vanilla scented soap. The familiarity of it, the memory of it was intoxicating to him. It momentarily made him forget that he was supposed to be angry with her. This was just another one of her games to try and break him but what she didn’t realize was he was already broken. Now, he was going to break her and then piece her back together into the person she used to be. No matter how much he had to push her. No matter how much it hurt him inside.

 

He would get his wife back regardless of what he had to do.

 

“I hate you,” she responded. Her voice dripped with venom as she gingerly removed her wand, not taking her eyes off of him.

 

“And I’m starting to hate you too,” he muttered icily. A chill filled his body as Astoria whirled around and yelled at the top of her lungs, _‘expulso_.’ The tables exploded one by one, pieces of wood flying in the air.

 

Draco howled, placing his arm around his eyes for protection from the debris. A thought crossed his mind as he heard Astoria stomp away loudly.

 

He was sick of waiting around for her. He was sick of therapy and listening to Lucien drone on as he struggled to get Astoria to be truthful. He was sick of her and doesn’t know what the hell he is going to do.

 

He glared at the wreckage around him and wiped at the sweat on his brow with the back of his shaking hand.

 

_What if his marriage was really over? What if he couldn’t fix it?_

The thought almost made him sink to his knees.


	8. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And what do blue roses symbolize?”
> 
> “Pain. Heartache. Desire. They symbolize wanting something you can’t have.”

_Draco opened the doors that led to the gardens, holding two glasses of lemonade in his hands. It was surprisingly hot seeing that it was only the beginning of summer. The warmer weather seemed to bring Astoria’s mood up. Still, ever since she yelled at him there had been a rift between the two of them._

_He felt like he was walking on eggshells. He found himself replaying every thought he had in his head before he spoke to her and using only soft tones, not wanting Astoria to think he was mad at her when he wasn’t._

_He was upset but mainly with himself because he couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with his wife._

_Draco watched her quietly as she shook some dirt off of her white gardening hat and removed her dragonskin gloves, wiping at the sweat on her brow. Her normally white skin was tanner than usual making her look healthier and more alive than she had in months._

_“Tori?” he called out, walking hesitantly towards her. “I brought you some lemonade.”_

_She squinted at him and then waved her hand, allowing him to come closer to her. His eyes darted around the section of the garden that Astoria seemed to have become obsessed with. He hadn’t taken her for a gardener. She had never wanted to garden with his mother and had never seen her acknowledge any of the flowers._

_The garden was almost unrecognizable to Draco. It looked nothing like it did when his mother had tended to it. Tulips, petunias and rich red peonies used to be his mother’s favorite. She had several of them planted throughout the garden._

_A tulip was crushed underneath Astoria’s foot and others lay littered in bunches. She had been uprooting them all day. The different colors of flowers were gone and in place had been one growing rose bush. She was planting another._

_“Thank you,” she said hoarsely, taking a sip from the glass and then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She placed it on the floor and then crouched down, picking up a small spade and breaking up a clump of dirt._

_Draco stood silently behind her, watching the ghost of a smile on her lips as she patted the ground, planting a seed. She didn’t rush the process but did it with care and compassion. She whispered to each one ‘grow, grow, little one,’ a look of hope on her face._

_“Astoria, why only roses?” he questioned. Her back tensed and Draco took a step back, already feeling the change in her mood. “I mean…don’t you want to have different colors and different flowers,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his burning neck awkwardly._

_She turned her head and stared at him, squinting from the sun. There were small freckles on her nose._

_“There are different colored roses.”_

_“I know.”_

_She raised her hand as if to say ‘let me finish.’ “Yellow roses are for friendship. They’re supposed to make you feel warm and welcome.”_

_Draco arched his eyebrow but listened to her intently. Weren’t all roses supposed to make you feel like that? Wasn’t the rose a symbol of love?_

_“White roses are for purity, innocence,” she continued, “and then there are pink, orange, lavender, green and even blue roses.” He watched as the smile on her lips became more prominent and her voice sounded dreamy, eyes millions miles away as she thought of the flowers._

_A piece of her blonde hair had come loose from the bun she had the rest of her hair tied up in and she pushed it behind her ear gently. He smiled at her, not caring that his neck felt like it was on fire and he was probably going to be as red as a tomato if he didn’t go inside soon._

_“I’ve never seen those before,” he said, crouching down and joining her in the dirt. “My father used to give my mum red roses for their anniversary every year when I was younger. I think he still does. They symbolize love. I know that.”_

_Astoria nodded, sticking her gloveless hands in the dirt. Draco mimicked her motion, sifting the warm dirt with his fingers and then patting it with the palm of his hands._

_“It depends. People are sometimes wrong about the red ones. Everyone assumes that they mean love.”_

_Draco wasn’t really listening anymore. He snaked his hand towards hers, looping their fingers together. Her wedding band was covered with dirt but it still shined in the sunlight._

_“The darker they are, the deeper the red, they no longer symbolize love but death,” she whispered. Draco kissed her exposed shoulder softly, mumbling ‘go on.’ “They symbolize the end of an idea, a life,” she paused, shivering slightly as his lips found her neck, “a marriage.”_

_Draco stopped abruptly and pulled away from her, staring into her eyes. They were sad, hollow. It was like she was trying to convey some message to him but he couldn’t comprehend it. His hand snaked its way up to her neck, softly rubbing it._

_“What color are you planting then?”_

_She raised her shoulder, pushing him away from her body and resumed the sifting of the clumps of dirt. She scooped up a handful and held it in her hands, watching as it slowly sprinkled from the cracks of her fingers and flew in the wind._

_“Red ones,” she said, her voice wavered as she spoke, “bright red ones for now.”_

_He wrinkled his nose and wiped his eyes, the dirt making his eyes water. “For now?”_

_“One day I’ll learn how to create blue ones. Perfect blooming dark blue ones for our garden. They’ll be everywhere.”_

_“And what do blue roses symbolize?”_

_“Pain. Heartache. Desire. They symbolize wanting something you can’t have.”_

_-x-_

Draco barged into Lucien’s office, throwing the door open, letting it bang on the wall to announce his presence. He was about to apologize for being twenty minutes late but he had been searching for Astoria and had lost track of time. He hadn’t seen her since the night with the trust exercise, two weeks ago.

 

He was surprised to see Astoria sitting on the settee already, wringing her hands together and staring at Lucien.

 

His annoyance and anger was reaching a boiling point. Draco didn’t bother to take a seat on the grey settee or even acknowledge Astoria. His head snapped at Lucien who was sitting upright in his chair. There was no quill tapping away in his hand or parchment on his desk. His office was bare except for the settee and his brown chair.

 

“What is this!” Draco shouted, eyes ablaze with fury. “Are you in cahoots? Have you been having her come here earlier than me all along and nursing this twisted web of lies!”

 

Lucien said nothing but the vein in his neck throbbed as he watched Draco split at the seams.

 

“Calm down Draco,” he said coldly.

 

Draco laughed manically, throwing his arms in the air and then pulling at the hair on his head. “Calm down? You expect me to clam down? That woman sitting over there. I can’t even bare to look at her. She’s a _liar_. You want us to talk about honesty and trust. Here’s the truth, she has been lying to the _both_ of _us_ this entire time. She’s trying to ruin me. She’s trying to kill me. Are you part of her plot?”

 

“Draco,” he said calmly, he pulled out his wand and conjured a separate chair for Draco to sit in that matched his own. “Sit down. Astoria came here early because she wanted to talk to me. We never did get to her separate session. I think you need to listen to what she has to say.”

 

His hands gripped the arms of the chair, forcing him to stay seated. The heat was unbearable. He was sitting right underneath the small open window but there was no wind coming from it. The room was stuffy and started to unnerve him. He didn’t want to have the sessions anymore. He wanted to be done with them, never come back again and have to ponder his thoughts and actions. He should have kept everything hidden, locked inside of him and kept pretending that everything was okay.

 

“She’s not going to say anything,” he roared bitterly. Astoria’s mouth was shut tight in a thin line. “I’m the only one that cares about this marriage. Might as well just give her what she wants. Should I draw up the divorce papers then, _Ms. Greengrass_?” he said loudly, throwing his arms in the air again as if he really didn’t give a damn.

 

Lucien stared at him with pained brown eyes as Astoria whimpered, scratching her arm and staring down at her shoes.

 

“Give her a minute Draco. You’re putting too much pressure on her. She’s petrified.”

 

Draco stared sullenly at Astoria, guilt filling him. He clung to the arms of the chair again, waiting for her to say something.

 

“He doesn’t want to listen,” she whispered, “he never wants to listen to what I have to say. I don’t care. I’d be more than willing to sign divorce papers. I’ve grown accustomed to my current lifestyle but I’ll manage. I…I’ll live in a broom cupboard if I have to,” she stuttered over the last part.

 

Draco rolled his eyes. The mere mention of money annoyed him. He was the problem? That’s what she was trying to say. Didn’t she see how well he treated her? Didn’t she realize how kind and thoughtful he was to her? He let her treat him like dirt for too long. No, not like dirt. She cared more for dirt than him.

 

Beads of sweat rolled down his face but he didn’t bother wiping them away. He was done trying to keep up his appearance. He felt disgusted with the shaking woman that was sitting near him. His heart pounded in his chest. He could have been having a heart attack, dying, and neither of the people in the room would have cared.

 

“You have my attention,” he said drily. Lucien shook his head and reprimanded him quickly. Draco didn’t have anything nice to say anymore. Not one thing. All that filled his head were thoughts of resentment.

 

She scoffed, peeling her back off the settee and shifting from her position so she could properly look at him. She glanced at Lucien for support and then back at Draco, staring at him with a look of utter horror on her face.

 

“What? Are you going to say you hate me again? Did she tell you that? Did she tell you how she blew up all of our dinner chairs? No,” he said, noticing the way Lucien stared at his skin, “there weren’t any scars. Not visible ones anyway.”

 

Lucien’s chair screeched as he pushed it back, rising out of it. “Stop trying to guilt her. We’re all going to talk without trying to hurt the other. Words can _hurt_. Think about what you’re going to say before you say it. Draco,” he said, nodding his head towards him, “keep an open mind and listen to Astoria. Astoria, be honest.” He sat back down in his chair, waiting for the both of them to say something.

 

Draco’s back tensed and he fingered the wand that was in his pocket, a fire in his eyes. If Astoria didn’t say anything in one minute he was sure he was going to have a nervous breakdown. He didn’t know what would happen to him if he lost control.

 

“Well,” Lucien said after a few minutes of silence, “if neither of you are going to willingly speak we’ll have to go about this the way we always do. If you could change one thing in your relationship, what would it be?” he questioned.

 

Draco leaned in his chair and tapped his foot on the ground. There was something off about the room, besides the lack of furniture and parchment.

 

“Everything isn’t a proper answer I suppose,” he drawled out, “but if I could change one thing I’d say communication. We lack…an ability to properly talk out our problems. I say whatever comes to my mind and she just sits there like a statue.”

 

Lucien nodded and glanced at Astoria. She was biting her lower lip and shaking nervously while she fingered the hem of her dark green dress.

 

“I can’t think of anything,” she responded uneasily. Draco scoffed and shouted, ‘see!’ Astoria continued to pull at her dress, staring down at a spot on the floor.

 

“Do you…do you even _like_ me?” he questioned his wife, leaning in his chair, trying to see her shielded eyes. She lowered her head some more, cringing at the sadness in his voice.

 

She tried to change the subject, complaining about the heat inside the room, the way her body clung to the leather settee and the dull grey colors that weren’t warm and inviting.

 

“Astoria?” he called softly to her. Draco just wanted real emotion to show. He desperately wanted to grab her by the arms and shake her, shake her until she finally said something truthful. His voice was hoarse as he managed to croak out painfully, “She’s thinking. She’s thinking if she likes me.”

 

“I’m supposed to love you,” she whispered quietly. “I’m supposed to get those warm feelings, the heart beating rapidly in my chest whenever you walk into the room…excited when I hear you say my name but I don’t experience any of that.”

 

Draco gaped at her and then dropped his head in his hands, screaming loudly. His hands gripped the arms of the chair again, shaking the chair with all the anger and aggression inside of him.

 

“My wife doesn’t love me. Is that what you want me to keep an open mind about!” he shouted, glaring at Lucien. “Have you ever even loved me? Has this been a lie from the start?”

 

“Don’t answer that Astoria,” Lucien shouted loudly. He gave Draco a stern look.

 

“Do you love me?” she questioned, ignoring Lucien’s protest. “How can you love me!” she shouted, tearing at the end of her dress. “I want a divorce Draco,” she said, tears falling from her eyes, “please. If you love me you’ll give me what I want.”

 

Draco’s eyes flashed with anger. He raised out of his chair and walked slowly towards the door, ignoring the protests from Lucien, demanding he sit back down.

 

“Listen to what she has to say. Astoria, continue—“ Lucien pushed.

 

Draco whirled around, one hand gripping the doorknob. “Listen to what she has to say? Why? Of course I love you Astoria. You’re my wife and before that you were my best friend. We took vows, we swore we’d be together forever. You can’t be with someone forever if you don’t love them or like them…or can’t tolerate them.” He shouted, running his free hand through his sweaty hair.

 

“Astoria,” Lucien said quietly, “I think it’s time that you open up to your husband. It’s up to you to tell him what you need to tell him. You have to _want_ to say it. We’re going to act like adults today,” he said, giving Draco a look. “We’re going to have a civil conversation. We’re going to listen to Astoria. Go on,” he pushed.

 

“I…can’t…”

 

“Before you got married you were in love,” Lucien says, trying to urge Astoria to talk, “tell him Astoria. Tell him what you told me.”

 

Draco turned the knob. They were so in love it was sickening. They would go on picnics together and walks in the park. He would find something new for them to do everyday, shopping? What man would want to go shopping with their girlfriend? He did because he was thoughtful and every second with her was one not wasted.

 

“But you got married and the problems started, "Lucien continued, “because you needed space. You _thought_ you needed space and you pushed him away but that’s not what you really wanted. Was it Astoria?”

 

The door clicked open. Lucien waved his hand at Draco, motioning for him to stay.

 

She rubbed the back of her neck and shook her head sadly, eyes finding Draco’s that were swimming with hurt.

 

“I can never make you truly happy,” she said, choking back a sob.

 

“No,” he shouted. “You can. You can’t leave me. You are my wife. You make me so happy. We took a vow, till death. Are you dying? No. You’re not. You’re perfectly healthy.”

 

“No, Draco…I’m not. I can never give you want you want. You’re empty. You know it and I know it. If you stay with me you’ll never feel whole Draco, something will always be missing.” The tears were falling freely from her eyes, her hand shook as she raised it to her mouth, fighting to try and keep the words from coming out. “I can’t have a baby. I can’t give you a son or a daughter like you’ve always wanted. I’m…sorry.”

 

He couldn’t believe it, that she would sink so low. Lies. Always coming up with lies. He knew in his heart her words were not the truth. That she was just trying to hurt him more than before. She _is_ sick.

 

“Why do you keep looking at him?” Lucien shifted under his gaze nervously. “What? Is he in on this too? This sick jokes of yours.” He laughed bitterly to show that he too was in on the joke that he understands. He has caught them in their web of lies yet again. “It isn’t funny Astoria. It isn’t…I don’t care…I said it. I don’t care if you don’t love me. Astoria please, I beg you. I don’t care. Don’t leave me. I’ll change. I can do better. I won’t…I won’t…”

 

Draco dropped loudly to his knees but momentarily finds it odd he feels no pain. Pain? They always say it’s painful when you experience heartbreak but all he feels is numb.

 

“Draco...”

 

She shakes her head and cries and for a second he almost doesn’t realize that he’s crying too. There are tears coming from his eyes and they are rolling down his cheeks freely but he doesn’t really feel them. He feels nothing.

 

“I know you love me and if you don’t that’s okay too. I don’t care. I _don’t_. Don’t love me then! Don’t sleep in the same bed with me anymore! Don’t talk to me! You don’t have to do anything with me but be my wife. You have to stay married to me. You _can’t_ leave me. I don’t care...is it another man?” She doesn’t say anything but waiting for the answer shatters him even more. “Are you in love with him Astoria? Fine. Love _him_. I don’t care. I swear I don’t care...you just can’t leave me. You’re my life. You’re _my_ wife. We took a vow. That has to mean something.”

 

Astoria shakes her head and looks like she’s ready to crumble. She has to hold onto Lucien for support. He himself keeps averting his eyes from Draco’s. He’s guilty because he knew. He knew all along.

 

“Mr. Malfoy,” he says, “please let Astoria speak.”

 

Astoria sobs but she isn’t sad. Her face is angry again, a look Draco is all too familiar with. She’s ready to fight. She’s ready to hurt him again because completely shattering him, breaking his heart and forcing him to beg for her pathetically isn’t enough.

 

“You don’t understand Draco and you never will. I’m not g-good for y-you,” she said, stumbling over her words and choking back a sob. “I can’t give you what you want. What you _deserve_. You deserve someone who can love you and I’m not that person anymore.

 

He shook his head in protest and smacked the floor with his hand. “Yes you are. You can’t say that. This has to be a joke. I won’t lose you. We took a _vow_.”

 

“No,” he punched the floor making the two of them jump in their seats. “Don’t say anything. You listen. I’m here. I’m _always_ here for you. What do you want? More money? I’ll supply you with it. Clothes? Jewelry? I’ll give you more of it all. You can’t just throw me away. You can’t throw us away. We’re supposed to be happy—“

 

“But we’re not,” she said, laughing bitterly.

 

“We said we’d be together forever.”

 

“We can’t,” she whispered. Astoria shook her head and grit her teeth together. He felt the urge to get up and walk towards her, embrace her to let her know everything was going to be alright.

 

Draco knows he’s pathetic but he doesn’t care. He wants a woman that doesn’t love him. He wants a woman that wants nothing to do with him.

 

“Astoria, listen to me,” he said, pausing momentarily to think about what he was going to say next. “What am I supposed to do without you? How do you expect me to go back to that empty house with you and live without you...you’re half of me...” He shouted the last part and tried to collect himself. “I don’t answer.”

 

“You’ll never understand!” she yelled with bitterness. “Every day I’m in pain. Everyday! Do you know how hard it is to get up and look at myself in the mirror? _No_ , to look at you?” she laughed to herself hollowly while the two men stared at her. “Let me tell you about _my_ life Draco. I wake up every morning before you and on the good days I’m able to force myself to smile and on the bad days I have to use a cheering charm to stop myself from breaking down and crying everywhere I go.”

 

Draco gulped and placed his hands on his head, still unable to process what she was saying. She was right. He didn’t understand. He was on the verge of crying again, eyes filling with tears and lip quivering like a child.

 

“Astoria, you’re—“

 

“What?” she said, cutting him off with a scowl. “Exaggerating? Do you not believe me? No. Of course not because I’m so terrible to you. It’s all about you. What are you going to do without me? I can’t be with you anymore. Don’t you think there’s a part of me that knows you don’t deserve to be treated like this?”

 

“And what do you deserve?” he shouted, jumping up from the floor and pacing back and forth quickly. “What do you want?”

 

“I deserve to be alone,” she said barely above a whisper. “Let me be alone.”

 

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said weakly. “I never want you to be alone. What kind of life is that?”

 

She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

 

“What do you see when you think of our future?”

 

Lucien motioned for Draco to sit down because he knew what was going to come next would change everything. Though he hadn’t decided if it would be for better or for worse. He knew with the anger in the air this wasn’t the best way. The two needed to sit down together. Astoria, if she had ever truly loved Draco, needed to cry openly in his arms and let him carry part of her pain for her.

 

After three silent minutes Draco didn’t answer her but Lucien knows she cannot hold back any longer.

 

“I can’t have kids.”

 

Draco shook his head. It’s not in protest. It’s not in anger. A small smile appeared on his lips as if he thinks he finally understands.

 

“Yes we can. It’s okay,” he said in a soothing voice. “It’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ll be there every step of the way.”

 

His voice is supposed to reassure her. Has this been the issue all along?

 

“No. Draco, you’re not listening to me. I _can’t_ have a baby. The Healers...”

 

And that’s when it clicks. His eyes opened wide and there is pain circling in them, sadness and worry. He rubs his temples with his hands as he tries to process everything. Draco thinks back and tried desperately to find signs. Should he have realized?

 

“No, no, no. You can. _We_ can.”

 

Everything he has dreamed about.

 

Ruined.

 

“The Healers said no,” she says quickly. She’s finally getting it over with. She can no longer handle the pain. “Do you understand what this means? I’ve talked to so many—“

 

“We’ll get another opinion,” he says abruptly. “I don’t care if we have to go from country to country. We’ll go to Muggle doctors. I don’t care. We can have a baby Astoria, we can.”

 

“No. You can have baby and I can’t. Now that you know I’m done. I can’t pretend anymore.”

 

Her voice is soft. Apologetic.

 

“I’m not lying...make him understand...please...” she cries, putting her attention and pain on Lucien.

 

“Astoria,” he said calmly. “Take a deep breath and calm down,” he whispered.

 

“No,” she responded vehemently. “He’s not listening. He’s not getting it. You said he would understand. You said he would listen to me after all of this. I can’t!”

 

Her head fell and Draco looked at Lucien who was staring at him solemnly. He didn’t say anything but turned on his heel and walked towards the door. He threw it wide open and ran down the corridor into the warm summer air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He ran. He didn’t know where he was running to but it didn’t matter because he never wanted to stop. He didn’t realize there were tears falling from his eyes until his vision became blurry and he tripped over himself, falling to the ground, banging his fist on the concrete.

 

His heart thumped loudly in his chest and that’s when he realized what was off with Lucien’s office. The clock hadn’t been ticking. It was as if it knew the end had come for the couple.

 

-x-

 

Narcissa Malfoy knew something was wrong with her son the moment she laid eyes on him. She watched him quietly from doorway of his study and examined the way his fingers pulled at his white-blond hair aggressively. He hadn’t stopped mumbling to himself since she had first arrived five minutes ago.

 

 

The only reason she had dropped by unannounced was because Lucius had finally told her that he had stopped by searching for answers. Answers for what, her husband wouldn’t tell her but his information unsettled her after the lunch she had just had.

 

Narcissa came home fuming after lunch with Zahra Zabini. She talked about Draco and Astoria like they were two animals that had attacked her son and daughter-in-law. She had reprimanded Narcissa gleefully, talking about Draco and Astoria like they were two animals that had attacked her son and daughter-in-law. _I wonder where he got his manners from_ , she had said with a grin.

 

Narcissa had to excuse herself quickly after that, for fear she was going to snap and smack the grin right off of her dark face. She knocked lightly on the door, her son’s head jerking as he looked up, a crestfallen look on his face as he realized who it was.

 

“Is that how you greet your mum now? The same woman who gave birth to you, raised you and you haven’t visited for nearly two months now?” Her voice was light, teasing, but Draco hung his head and croaked out an apology.

 

He hadn’t seen Astoria in a little over a month. He didn’t know if she was in the manor or at her sister’s house. He only left his study to go to work and order food from places he knew he would never come across anyone he knew.

 

Narcissa eyed his dirty office, there were empty cartons of food littered around the room. Something smelled like it had died in there or had gone rotten and under careful examination she could see the bags underneath his eyes, his normally clear face was grayish, bloated and greasy.

 

“I had an interesting conversation with Zahra,” she said loudly. “She said that Astoria _attacked_ Isabella.”

 

“It’s true,” he responded hollowly. He didn’t look into his mother’s eyes but instead grabbed a black quill that was on the desk and dipped it into an inkpot.

 

“Well,” she said tersely, ruffled by his tone. “May I ask why my daughter-in-law was attacking a pregnant woman and why my son seems to be decomposing inside of his study?”

 

“No mother,” he whispered tightly, “you may not.” He wanted to wave his hand at her, to shoo her away like his father used to when he was younger and would get annoyed by her constant nagging but he didn’t have the fight inside of him anymore.

 

Narcissa huffed and poked her son’s greasy head, grimacing at the way his hair felt underneath her finger.

 

“Start explaining to me Draco before I go find Astoria myself and ask her what the hell is going on and for the love of—take a shower. You smell awful and you look awful. You need fresh air, come on.”

 

She tugged at his arm forcefully, trying to pull him out of his black leather chair. He limply got out of the chair, dragging his feet against the floor.

 

Narcissa pushed Draco down the corridor, he squinted and groaned at the sunlight that seemed to become brighter with each step they took together. She was leading them towards the gardens, Draco could see the doors that led to the outside and halted behind his mother.

 

“I won’t go out there,” he said defiantly, pointing to the doors.

 

Narcissa frowned worriedly, lines creasing on her face.

 

“Why not? You’ll feel better once you get some fresh air.”

 

She stared at him with a hopeful smile on her face. Her once blonde hair was now grey which should have given away her age but her wrinkles weren’t prominent, they were faint compared to her husbands and her blue eyes still made her seem much younger than she really was.

 

“No.” He shook his head and reached for his mother’s hands. “I can’t…there are too many memories. I just…that’s Astoria’s favorite place to be. I…no. Mum, please,” he begged weakly.

 

She arched a thin eyebrow and pursed her pale lips. “What is going on between the two of you? Where is Astoria? Draco, has something happened?”

 

He nodded his head and sucked in his breath, closing his eyes to calm himself down. He didn’t want to see the disappointed look on his mother’s face.

 

“Astoria and I have been experiencing some problems,” he mumbled, “but we’re working through them. It’s very hard right now but we’re going to be alright.”

 

Narcissa didn’t know if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

 

He looked cold as he opened his eyes, taking a few steps away from her to hide himself in the shadow of the corridor. The darkness accepted him like an old friend.

 

Her heart was beating nervously in her chest. Her son. Her poor son was heartbroken and she could not piece him back together. She could not make him whole as he shook in the corridor, mumbling words underneath his breath that she could not make out.

 

“Draco—“

 

“My wife is gone,” he blurted out quickly. “I don’t even know where she is. She has been away from me for too long. Mummy, I’ve never felt so alone in my life.”

 

Narcissa stepped into the darkness and wrapped her arms around her son. He squeezed her tightly, thanking her for her warmth and understanding. She understood more than he realized. She had gone through the same emotions when Lucius left their family for Azkaban all those years ago. She had struggled in the darkness when her son was in school and she was alone.

 

Time seemed to stand still then. The silence had nearly driven her mad.

 

Once he started talking he couldn’t stop. The words rushed out of his mouth.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have told you something but I don’t want you to be disappointed in me…I’ll fix it. I swear I will. Everything will be okay.”

 

_Everything will be okay_.

 

That’s what she had always said to herself when she had to go to bed alone at night. _Everything will be okay. He will come back to me._ It saddened her to see her son going through the same thing she had and reacting the same way. When Lucius _did_ come back they had fought in the night, she had been furious with him and resented him for years.

 

“Draco,” she was close to tears, her hand touched his dirty face, wiping at his skin, trying to find the remains of the son she once knew. “Come outside. We’ll talk there.”

 

He stared at her flabbergasted and shook his head. “No!” he screeched. “I won’t go out there. I’m fine. I just need to talk to Astoria.”

 

“You could never disappoint me,” she whispered. “Sometimes things can’t be fixed.”

 

He glared at her and pushed her hands off of him. “You don’t even know what’s going on,” he said quickly. She tried to say something but he cut her off. “I don’t have to explain everything to you. I’m not a child.”

 

“Well you’re acting like one. Explain then. What, is she unhappy? Has she been cheating on you?” She watched as his eyes flashed with anger and pain. “I love Astoria but I am more worried about you. If she’ll attack a pregnant woman who knows what she’ll do. She could attack you. She could hurt a child.”

 

He crossed his arms against his chest and said coldly, “My wife would never cheat on me. _I_ love Astoria. _I_ am worried about _her_. _I_ know she would _never_ do anything to intentionally hurt someone. _I_ know my wife. When,” he swallowed, pausing, he could not say _if_ , “we have children they will be lucky to have her as a mother.” Narcissa stared at him, he pushed back his greasy hair with his hand and stared stonily back at her. “Good day mum,” he said, turning on his heel and walking down the corridor.

 

Her son had never dismissed her before. Narcissa stared at the spot he had just been standing on, the dark red carpet still had the impression of the soles of his shoes.

 

She shook her head, trying to ignore the foreboding feeling inside of her. Whatever was going on between Draco and Astoria was worse than she expected. Finding Astoria and talking to her would be her next step. She needed to understand why her son was being cold and distant. She needed to understand why he was turning into a broken man so quickly.

 

Narcissa turned slowly and walked towards the white glass French doors that led to the gardens. She opened them and walked out, welcoming the slight breeze and the bright sun that made her squint as she walked towards Astoria’s rose bushes.

 

She reached her hand out to touch a rose. Never had she seen blue roses before and for the life of her she could not figure out their significance.


	9. Denial

Denial was a funny thing. Denial could drive a person mad. It could make them believe in the impossible. They say there are seven stages of grief: shock, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, acceptance and _hope_.

 

Draco had already dealt with acceptance. He had accepted that his marriage was over long before he had started couples therapy. Just because he accepted it, it didn’t mean he had to agree with it.

 

He had used his _anger_ to _guilt_ Astoria into couple’s therapy and when that didn’t work he bargained with her. He used money as the way to try and control his marriage. Though he had learned years ago money couldn’t solve everything.

 

Depression had been following him around for months. Before then it was just sadness. An ever-present loneliness deep inside of him. Then his wife asked for a divorce. She said she could live without him and didn’t need him anymore even though he needed her.

 

The shock had found home in his body during their first fight. The day Astoria had screamed and screeched at him for the first time, two months into their marriage.

 

It didn’t matter that he had experienced the steps out of order. It didn’t matter that Astoria was alive and well _enough_.

 

He would have been grieving over the loss of his marriage but Draco was in denial and to him that was worse to overcome than any of the other steps.

 

Draco walked down a dimly lit corridor, eyes roaming each door before he found the one-labeled ‘2B’ that he was looking for. His knuckles knocked against the white door and impatiently waited for it to open. He wanted answers. After a few seconds, bouncing from foot to foot, the door opened. Daphne Greengrass gave him an uneasy smile, brown hair disheveled as if she hadn’t brushed it, makeup askew and a silk robe wrapped tightly around her body.

 

He arched his eyebrow and gave her an amused look. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, gesturing to her outfit.

 

She rolled her eyes, pulling away from the doorway to let him into her flat.

 

“No…I was…well…I was…shut-up Draco. Not that I don’t appreciate you coming by but can we just hurry this up. I have someone here and…”

 

She bit her bottom lip and groaned as he took off his cloak and laid it down next to him, taking a seat on her navy blue settee, making himself comfortable.

 

“I have all day,” he responded gruffly. “Where is she?”

 

Daphne blinked. “Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She walked over to the settee, awkwardly taking a seat next to him, trying to cover her bare thighs.

 

“Astoria. Don’t play dumb with me. I know she’s here. I checked the entire manor and I didn’t find her once. I even did a tracking spell but nothing.” His voice was slightly hysterical and rose in some places. It appeared to Daphne that he was fighting with himself but she didn’t say anything about it.

 

“Draco,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to touch his, “she isn’t here. I don’t know what’s going on. Seriously, I don’t.”

 

He shook his head defiantly, pulling out of her grip. “But I got an owl…I went to St. Mungo’s and they said to come here. They said that I could find the answers to all of my questions here. That she had _allowed_ it and they were expecting me. Don’t lie to me!” he shouted, glaring at her.

 

_Mr. Malfoy, please, stop your shouting. We have patients that aren’t well. They need their rest._

 

Movement broke the silence between them. Daphne blushed a deep shade of red and jumped from her spot next to Draco, rushing towards the person that was making the noise.

 

“I thought I told you—“

 

He waved his hand at her to silence her and then happily waved at Draco.

 

“Goyle?” he questioned incredulously. “Oh gods! What the hell are _you_ doing—ew, don’t answer that. You don’t have to explain anything to me. Have some decency and put some clothes on.”

 

He planted his hands on his eyes childishly, not wanting to look any longer at his half-naked friend who was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.

 

_Mr. Malfoy, yes, we know all about your wife and why you’re here. No, we can’t just give you her medical information. You wouldn’t be able to understand what it says. She has left a form, signed with her name allowing the information to be released to you._

 

“Hello, Draco!” Goyle shouted brightly. He was holding a folder that was filled with papers and walked over to him, sitting on the glass table that was across from Draco.

 

Draco felt the bile rise in his throat. He knew his sister-in-law and friend had been seeing each other on and off for the past six months but he didn’t think he’d have to see the two of them _together_. Crabbe’s round cheeks were red and his large hairless stomach was exposed, rising and falling as he took each breath, waiting for Draco to say something.

 

_No, I don’t have the information with me. I do not have the files. Stop screaming before we admit you as well. I’m trying to help you, listen, calm down. Your wife, yes, Astoria Malfoy, no she isn’t here. Sir, please try to calm down. I’m going to tell you where to find the files._

 

“Astoria isn’t here actually, she’s not lying. Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I would have met you someplace else but Daphne can be a bit tiring.” He raised his eyebrow and then winked suggestively at Draco.

 

He had to choke back the bile rising in his throat. “Where the hell is she then?” he growled. “Can you please put on a shirt and some pants? Unsettling image…going to haunt me in my nightmares. I’m sure Daphne is fun and reminds you of a Halloween treat but heed my warning, run far away from the Greengrass family.”

 

_Here is the address. Someone will be there to give you answers. I don’t know where your wife is Mr. Malfoy. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s in the files. I’m just the receptionist. Please stop yelling Sir before I alert the Ministry._

 

Goyle gave him a wry smile and waved the folder in his hand again. “I heard all about you raising hell in St. Mungo’s. Some things never change. Sorry I wasn’t there when you were looking for answers. These are Astoria Malfoy’s medical papers,” Goyle coughed and waited for a reaction from Draco. He leaned forward and snatched the folder out of his hands. “Go through them but I guarantee you’re going to need an explanation.”

 

Draco flipped through the papers hurriedly but he didn’t understand what he was reading. There were images but they were blurry to his eyes. They didn’t reveal anything to him. The only words he understood were ‘Astoria Malfoy’ and ‘miscarriage.’

 

He sucked in his breath and stared at Goyle who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I don’t understand. Why do you even have these?”

 

“I work for St. Mungo’s,” he said slowly as if it was obvious. Draco stared at him with disbelief. “I’m not a Healer. I deal with the psychological aspect of things when people experience complications or have a disease we can’t cure. I listen to families and try to help them process the feelings they’re going through.”

 

“You’re a therapist?” Draco asked with a laugh.

 

Goyle scratched his chin and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t like to label what I do. If you would have come to any of the reunions I threw…well that’s not important right now. Think of me as someone who just _listens_. Before I can listen to you Draco, you’re going to have to listen to me. Astoria has agreed to let you look at her medical reports.”

 

Daphne took a quiet seat next to Draco, a tray of three tall glasses of water floating in front of her.

 

“Did you know about this?” he asked, she nodded her head.

 

“I’ve known since she was in St. Mungo’s. It has been a lot to process. It wasn’t my place to tell you though,” she said, squeezing his hand.

 

Draco gaped at his sister-in-law but said nothing, squeezing her hand in return for comfort.

 

“I don’t know where Astoria is and even if I did I wouldn’t be able to tell you, confidentiality agreement of course. Let’s just focus on what I have here right now. You were married a little over two years ago, yes?”

 

Draco found himself a little put off by Goyle’s professional voice. It was odd to hear him speak in general. He had never been a person of many words.

 

“Yes,” he replied crisply.

 

“You were sexually active before you got married. She became pregnant and,” he licked his finger and turned over a piece of parchment, reading it intently, “she experienced her first miscarriage at seven weeks. It was almost two months into your marriage.”

 

Draco shook next to Daphne as Goyle reached out and handed him the parchment he was reading. The words still didn’t make any sense. He didn’t understand the medical terms but Goyle’s words repeated in his head.

 

 _It was almost two months into your marriage_.

 

Two months – that’s when their first fight happened.

 

“Why?” he asked, gripping Daphne’s hand tighter. “How could this happen? Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

 

Goyle placed the papers put he was shuffling through on the glass table and folded his hands, giving Draco a sorrowful look.

 

“It’s a tough subject,” Daphne whispered. “She doesn’t feel like a woman. Says it’s the only thing she’s made to do and she can’t even do it properly. I don’t think she could really handle it herself. Like she’s in denial about it. Even when she told me it was like a dream the way she explained it. Like she hadn’t really gone through it.”

 

 _She doesn’t feel like a woman_.

 

The sentence doesn’t make sense to Draco because how can a woman not feel like a woman? He always feels like a man. He sees her as a woman. Her insides should function like one too. It is a foreign concept to him, to think of Astoria as less than a woman. Even when he thinks of her as a monster he doesn’t say ‘monster’ he says ‘she is a monster.’ It is always she. _She doesn’t feel like a woman_.

 

“You’re lying,” he said, gritting his teeth. It came out muffled, strangled, like he was some sort of animal. “You’re lying. She’s lying. These papers are fake. I want to talk to someone _real_. There’s no way you could work for St. Mungo’s. You were always so bloody _stupid_!” he cried out, shaking in his seat.

 

Goyle’s brown eyes darkened. He winced as if Draco had pointed his wand at him and hurled a nasty hex his way.

 

“I tried to be nice Draco but it’s clear you need to be shocked down to your very core before you can take me seriously.” He shoved the rest of the papers in Draco’s hands. He dropped them like they were on fire. “Astoria has gone through _three_ miscarriages.”

 

Not one. Not two but three. He could have had a child. He could have been a father already and bounced a child on his knee, a little girl or a little boy.

 

“No!” he shouted, pulling out his wand, shooting the papers out of the room. “That’s bollocks! You’re lying. She would never…she never…I would have known. She would have told me. We’re having…we’re going to have…”

 

His voice broke and he rose from the navy settee, walking quietly towards the door he had come in from. He feared if he apparated he would splinch himself because his body shook violently.

 

“Draco, wait!” Daphne cried out. She rushed to him, not caring that her thighs were openly exposed, her silk black robe leaving little to the imagination. Her face was wet from tears, eyes dark and glossy.

 

He knows if it was true and his wife really could not create a life with him that he would still want to be with her. He is invested in their relationship. He loves her despite her faults. There are so many children that are lost in the world that are looking for guidance and their parents can not give it to them because they are incompetent or unable. Draco was lost once, his parents had been unable to really protect him but he had found others willing to try, even if he didn’t accept their help.

 

Dumbledore. Snape. Harry.

 

He has learned long ago that life, no matter how much you try to plan and prepare for it will always manage to slip you up. It is up to you to pick yourself up from the ground and stand tall.

 

He would have picked her up.

 

He would have let her lean on him for support, for balance.

 

He would have caught her before she fell.

 

_“I knew you would jump if I jumped,” she said, “I wanted to test my theory. I wanted to see if you would protect me.”_

 

Why must he prove himself time and time again?

 

“She loves you,” Daphne whispered, placing a hand on his cool cheek. “S-she barely felt anything. The last one she took the hardest…she was supposed to have a girl.”

 

It makes him pause to hear Daphne tell him that his wife loves him. For a moment he thinks it is Astoria standing before him since they both look so similar now that her hair is back to it’s natural coffee colored brown. But it is fleeting because she drags out the ‘L’ while Astoria would have said it sharper, without hesitation.

 

_“I love you,” she whispered._

_The sound of the waves crashing around them. The smell of the salty sea engulfing his nose, overriding his senses._

He should have been more cautious then. Maybe he shouldn’t have waited for her to jump. Maybe he should have jumped off the pier himself and seen if she would have jumped in after him.

 

To Draco he thinks his wife would have let him drown or shiver from the cold, cackling evilly and calling him a fool.

 

He feels like a fool.

 

He blinks and then he smacks Daphne’s hand away from his face and opens the door. Daphne is _not_ Astoria. Daphne could never be her. She is kind, compassionate, but she is also flighty and dramatic. Astoria’s drama is called for.

 

Or is it?

 

He does not know.

 

His heart was beating inside of his ears as he rushed down the dimly lit corridor and outside. He wasn’t sure where he was walking too.

 

He did not see the world that was around him. He did not notice the blue sky or the green of the trees and the grass.

 

To him, everything was a soft bubblegum pink.

 

Denial was a funny thing. It was worst than anger. You could make anger vanish. You could lessen it by trying to calm yourself down. Guilt could appear and disappear. You could swallow down guilt, trap it in the back of your brain and never let it see the light. Shock was fleeting. Shock was like pricking your finger on the thorn of a rose. Depression could appear whenever it wanted but could be swallowed down. Pretending to be happy was easy. Accepting depression was even easier.

 

Denial was the worst stage of grief. Denial made you believe in the impossible. Denial muddled your senses because the truth could never be accepted.

 

Draco found denial was the best state for him to be in. As he walked, passing two children, a boy and a girl, laughing as they held their parents hands, sharing an ice cream cone, he found himself mumbling under his breath.

 

_They were supposed to have a family._

_They would have a family._

_-x-_

It seemed like most days Astoria could not function. She had found herself leaving the manor for days at a time when she couldn’t handle the silence any more. She knew Draco was home for only short hours and never leaved his study. She could hear him sighing, screaming, sometimes throwing things at the wall.

 

She had finally broken her husband. He had reached rock bottom. She thought it would have made her feel better that he was finally where she had been for so long but it didn’t.

 

Astoria found herself repeating the saying her father had told her when she was younger and her first boyfriend had broken up with her, for reasons she didn’t understand why.

 

_Sometimes you have to hurt the people you love._

Whenever she did stay at the manor she spent most of her day hiding in one room and then the next. Their bedroom was off limits. It brought back painful memories of a happier time in their marriage. A time where she used to willingly lay her head down next to him and he would drape his arm around her slender waist, rubbing her lower back in slow circular motions until she fell asleep.

 

Of course staying in the manor meant she was bound to come across someone, a visitor that would stray looking for Draco. Not once did she think someone would come searching for her.

 

Narcissa Malfoy was on a mission, Astoria was sure of it. Her mother-in-law had barged into the kitchens around noon, just as Astoria was putting the finishing touches on her lunch. She did not hug her like she normally did. There were no exchanges of air kisses, no pleasantries of telling the other how beautiful they looked or thin.

 

Instead, Narcissa narrowed her blue eyes at her and shrilly demanded to know what the hell was going on with her son. She should have found it offensive that she was blaming her for Draco’s downward spiral but instead she found herself tightly asking Narcissa if she would like some lunch.

 

The two Malfoy women sat at the dining table, grilled chicken and baby spinach salad untouched, glaring at each other.

 

“It’s so nice to see you,” Astoria said drily. “What a magnificent surprise.”

 

The pleasantries were lost on her mother-in-law. Narcissa’s mouth was in a tight line as she eyed her daughter-in-law. She insulted Astoria’s cropped brown hair inside her head. She looked for traces of bloodshot, crying eyes and dark circles but she found none. Astoria looked as calm as ever.

 

“My son is out there somewhere, devastated because of you. What the hell is going on? No one wants to give me the full story. I hear you attacked Isabella Zabini. I hear my son is getting into screaming matches with Blaise. Neither of you visit me and then my own husband has to tell me that my son is seeking him for marital advice,” she said quickly, staring into Astoria’s blue eyes.

 

They didn’t change. They didn’t give off an ounce of emotion. She didn’t blink, making Narcissa compare her to broken worthless dolls she used to see thrown in the back of shops when their magic no longer worked.

 

Astoria pursed her lips and gripped her wand underneath her table, gingerly caressing it, feeling the slight grooves. She wanted to say he was out there and for once in her life she didn’t know if she could find him. If he would come back to her after Gregory Goyle had explained everything to him. How could he love a broken woman?

 

“You are an evil woman. You deserve whatever comes to you. I told you to never harm my son. I warned you, did I not?”

 

But Narcissa wouldn’t understand her pain. Narcissa couldn’t understand because she had been able to have a son. She had been able to carry him for nine months and then watch him grow from a boy into a man.

 

The dining room was cold but it shined brightly from the sun. She was sure Narcissa could remember sitting at the exact table a few years ago, serving the same chicken (tasteless, bland) on the same china, fretting over every little detail because her son was bringing a woman to dinner.

 

Narcissa had been unable then to see her destruction. She did not know what Astoria was capable of.

 

As she held her wand she could feel the magic surge inside of her.

 

“You don’t even care about him, do you?” she asked hotly.

 

Astoria glared at her. She was breathing heavily and red in the face. Her knuckles cracked and her jaw tensed slightly.

 

“You don’t understand anything,” she whispered slowly.

 

“Then make me understand Astoria. I _need_ to understand.”

 

She gripped her wand tighter and stared at Narcissa. Blue eyes met the same sea blue. Anger, resentment, sadness, all those emotions and more were in Astoria’s eyes as silent hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She was startled and at a loss for words at the sincerity in her mother-in-law’s voice like she actually _cared_ about her. As if she wouldn’t abandon her once she found out the truth even though Astoria knew Draco was her child, Draco was her world.

 

“No marriage is perfect,” she said icily. “No marriage is perfect and that’s what everyone expects, that’s what he looks for when he sees me, perfection. I am flawed. I will never be able to satisfy him. I will never be able to give him what he wants and needs.”

 

Narcissa swallowed and averted her eyes from Astoria, staring at a spot behind her head. The champagne colored wallpaper was peeling slightly at the edges.

 

“You’re not even listening to me!” she shouted, watching Narcissa’s eyes. Narcissa stopped herself from jumping in her seat. “You’re just like him.”

 

She watched as Narcissa’s eyes flashed dangerously.

 

“ _You_ are the problem,” she said boldly, staring at Astoria again. “ _You_ are pushing him away for whatever reasons you have that I don’t know about. Do you hear yourself? Accusing him of trying to…what? Change you? Help you become a better person? For him looking past your flaws?”

 

It was enough to set her over the edge. Astoria no longer knew what she was doing. Anger consumed her. Narcissa had sprinkled salt in her wounds and rubbed at it manically.

 

Astoria did not notice she was pointing her wand at the glass cabinet that was next to them that held china and glass trinkets that she had gotten for her wedding or passed down from the Malfoy family from generation to generation.

 

She could faintly hear Narcissa scream in surprise as the glass flew at them. She could see the blood that was coming from Narcissa and the shocked expression on her face as Astoria levitated her red wine glass and hurled it at her with all the force of her magic. The large bay window that that sun seeped through crashed loudly, glass littering the wooden floors.

 

She stood up as Narcissa struggled to get her wand out of her pocket, wincing at the pieces of glass that pierced her white skin. _Expelliarmus_ was said softly by Astoria, a cry of anguish escaped Narcissa as her wand flew from her hand. _Petrificus Totalus_ was uttered with a snarl on her face. Narcissa could only breathe, move her eyes and watch Astoria was the blood continued to trickle out of her body, a nasty gash was on her thigh, a piece of glass had pierced it.

 

Astoria dropped her wand and walked over to the destroyed window. She stared at the grounds outside. The sun was shining down on the manor, birds fluttered outside, chirping every few seconds. She watched as a blue bird flew past her, soaring into the sky.

 

Glass crinkled underneath her feet as she walked to the edge and then fell to her knees, screaming in pain as the pieces cut her.

 

How she wanted to be that bird. Beautiful and free of worry. Flying in the sky with nothing to bring her down, no place to be tied too, no one to worry about.

 

_You deserve what is coming to you._

Her bliss was interrupted as the sharpness of the glass cuts her. For a moment she feels like she is back in the cellar, as if she is a prisoner of Malfoy Manor.

 

Blood trickles down from the side of her head. It is thick. Red. It is the last thing she sees before she slumps to the floor, arms dangling freely from the edge of the window.

_-x-_

 

_He wrapped his hands around her eyes, placing them there so she couldn’t see anything._

_“Guess who…” he whispered, laughing at the way he sounded, a high-pitched voice, a lackluster imitation of a woman._

_“Draco,” she responded boredly. “You’re the only other person that lives here.”_

_He chuckled and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. It was their anniversary. They had been married for one year. Some days he wasn’t sure their marriage was going to last while other days he could sometimes see the sparkle in her eye that he had seen on their wedding day._

_Some days Astoria happily laced her hand with his and brushed his hair back with a delicate hand as he peered over papers and scribbled things down quickly with his quill._

_“Happy Anniversary sweetheart. I have a gift for you, but first.”_

_His hand found the nape of her neck and he crashed his lips on hers hungrily. They pulled apart minutes later, breathing heavily, red in the face and staring at each other with rare desire._

_With a grin, he pulled out a small envelope that had her name on it in his loopy scrawl. She smiled and eagerly tore it open, pulling out the photo that was inside._

_She dropped it in her lap, after gazing at the picture. She was staring at herself, sitting in a pub in the Muggle world. A man was sitting in the seat opposite of her. They were both leaning forward and talking to each other intently, their focus solely on each other._

_She didn’t need to look at the moving picture again to remember his hazel eyes, the curve of his lips, dark brows and the way his hand felt on hers as he tried to comfort her._

_“What is this?” she asked with horror. “Are you having me followed?”_

_“I want you to be completely honest with me right now Astoria. Are you cheating on me?” His voice was hard but sadness was trickled into it._

_Astoria stared at him horrified. Her hands shook slightly and she placed them on her stomach as if there was someone in there she needed to protect. His eyes did not move from her face, calculating every emotion and every movement._

_He noticed her lip quiver and the way she pressed her two front teeth into her bottom lip, drawing blood._

_“Why would you? W-why? H-how?” she tried to choke out. She couldn’t finish a thought in her head. She could not finish a sentence out loud._

_He wondered if she thought about the man that morning when they were in bed making love, a rarity in their tumultuous relationship. If she saw his face, heard his voice whisper in her ear and felt his touch instead of his own._

_Draco placed his hand softly on her cheek, staring into her eyes with a pained expression._

_“It’s alright,” he said, trying to shush her. “I know you wouldn’t. We love each other. It’s okay. Happy anniversary.”_

_It was twisted. It was wrong. In the back of his mind he knew something was going on with his wife, something that probably had to deal with the man in the picture, whoever he was but he pushed the doubt in his mind._

_He would rather live in denial. He wasn’t sure he could handle the truth._

_Astoria kept her hands pressed against her flat stomach, eyes glued to the picture that had fallen to the floor. He wondered what she saw. He wondered what she would recall and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug._

_“I love you. No matter what. I will always love you. You know that, no matter what.”_

_He was accepting what he thought was her infidelity. It didn’t matter to him if there are several men or if there is just one other. He will live with it with a heavy heart. He will smell her pillow to search for another scent that he doesn’t know and it will kill him slowly._

_She wanted to scream, to bang her fist against his chest and scold him for being so stupid. He couldn’t see what was right there in the photograph. It was obvious to her but she had lived it, she had sat there and had the conversation with the mysterious man without Draco by her side._

_The photograph was in black and white. He did not realize she was staring at the freshly pressed lime green robes the man was carrying that day._

_A color worn only by Healers._


	10. Acceptance

Draco had spent such a long time in denial that acceptance overwhelmed him. Acceptance made him feel like the end was near and that nothing could be done to salvage his life. It was time to move on.

 

He found Astoria passed out, half of her body dangling outside the window like a doll while the other half was resting on glass. He wasn’t sure who he should help first, his mother who was breathing on the ground and struggling to move, faint from the loss of blood or his wife. _Wife_. He wasn’t sure that word had any meaning anymore.

 

He stood there helplessly because he could move neither. Instead he ran towards his fireplace and flooed to St. Mungo’s, crying out for help.

 

The Healers vanished the glass that littered the floor. They made it seem like what had transpired was nothing more than a dream, a faint memory. When Draco looked back it he wasn’t sure if actually did happen. Maybe the problem wasn’t Astoria, maybe it was him, he had gone mad and was imagining terrible things.

 

The damage she had done wasn’t irreversible. He watched as they tended to his mother, picking out glass from her flesh and forcing blood-replenishing potions down her throat. She cringed. She cried. She refused to let her son anywhere near her. Lucius had been beside himself but blamed no one.

 

Draco watched as the Healers helped Astoria. How her body floated through the halls, wands pointed at her, towards their bedroom. She lay unconscious sprawled out on their bed, cuts vanished, magic depleted.

 

She opened her eyes two days later. Draco sat quietly by her side, arms folded and watched her sleep unsure of how to feel or react.

 

“You almost killed my mother,” he said. He watched as she struggled to peel her body off of the bed. “Don’t bother. They put a spell on you so you wouldn’t try to lash out at anyone the moment you woke-up.”

 

She weakly stopped resisting. Instead she kept her body still but shifted her head ever so slightly so she could see him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were red and his clothing was covered with blood.

 

The glass was gone but their blood had been smeared on the floor. There were droplets here and there throughout his home. He had wiped it away with a white rag instead of making it vanish with magic. Draco wanted to know what transpired was real. He needed a trace of the pain.

 

He needed to accept who his wife had turned out to be.

 

“You almost killed my mother,” he repeated gently.

 

Draco dropped to his knees slowly by the side of the bed. His hand was twirling a piece of her short brown hair. It felt odd. He had only ever known Astoria as a blonde. He was used to running his hands through her long locks of hair. He had gotten used to hearing her complain about how heavy it felt on her shoulders.

 

“She isn’t angry with you. She was at first but then she said she couldn’t stay angry because she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. I think she pities you. I suppose that’s what you wanted, for someone to feel for you, to understand.” He smiled sadly at her.

 

His hands trailed down her collarbone and then rested on her heart. He could feel it beating underneath his hand. It was faint but it was still there.

 

“I’m glad you can’t speak but that you can only listen. The Healers said you overexerted yourself. You lost control and the magic consumed you. It’ll take another week or two before you can speak. Before you can get up.” He sighed, tapping his finger on her chest. “I should be angry but I’m not.”

 

Astoria’s eyes softened and a ghost of a smile fell on his cracked lips in response.

 

“I would have been there for you. I wouldn’t have blamed you for the miscarriages. We could have gone through everything together like we were supposed to. We took a vow.”

 

His voice sounded hollow. He pulled his hand away from her silk purple top and rose from the floor, walking around the bedroom aimlessly.

 

The room was warm. The curtain had been raised so the sun could light every inch of the room. The light made Astoria appear softer to him, reminded him of better days while the darkness made him struggle to sit by her side.

 

He walked on the carpet with his feet bare, enjoying the small comfort of softness against his toes. Draco walked towards the window and stared at the outside world. There were white peacocks on the ground and birds flying in unison in the air. It was picture perfect.

 

Almost.

 

He was amazed at how much hadn’t changed and yet so much had. The world had continued while the two had been stuck in the same dark hole, struggling to break free, to lift themselves out.

 

He was finally ready to break free. He was finally at the mouth of the hole pulling himself out towards the light.

 

“I love you,” he said loudly; back still turned away from her. “When was the last time you told me you loved me? I honestly cannot remember.” He shivered as memories of the two filled his mind.

 

The fights. The tears.

 

It was hard to remember the good times when there were so many bad ones. He felt weak. He wanted to fall to the floor and scream at the top of his lungs. He wanted to be free.

 

“We were happy once. I know you loved me in the beginning. You just didn’t care about me enough in the middle and in the end. I listened to everything you said and everything you didn’t say. You never listened to me though. Not once.” He paused, watching five birds fly in a ‘V’ formation. “All I ever wanted to do was protect you and I failed. All I ever wanted to do was make you happy and I failed. Marriage isn’t easy but maybe I wasn’t meant to be a husband.”

 

He turned around and balled his hands up into fists, taking deep breaths. Astoria looked small, fragile. He wondered if she wanted to move. If she had anything to say or if she just wanted him to leave.

 

For the life of him he did not know.

 

He walked over towards her bedside slowly, staring at her chest rise and then fall.

 

“I’m scared of what’s to come. I’m scared about what’s going to happen to you and to me.” He twisted his torso and opened the top drawer from the bedside table, pulling out a piece of parchment with shaking hands. “More importantly I want to be happy and I want _you_ to be happy even if it isn’t with me. I love you. A part of me will always love you. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to give you what you need.”

 

His voice was soft, filled with sorrow as he turned his back and crumpled the parchment in a ball, placing it in the palm of her hand.

 

Astoria cannot move. She cannot read the words that he has written down but she can feel him lean in and softly kiss her forehead, muttering something about someone coming to take care of her and that’s when she knows what the words will say.

 

It is the end.

 

All she has to do is sign on the line and their marriage will be over.

 

-x-

 

Sometimes Astoria wakes up and she is wearing different clothing. A beige slip, a black silk nightdress or a navy blue top and bottom. She does not know who is changing her. She never wakes up to anyone next to her bedside and she does not smell the familiar aftershave that belongs to Draco.

 

She knows there is someone there. Someone who has been feeding her because she does not wake-up hungry. She feels them caressing her head sometimes or laying an extra blanket over her body when she is cold or maybe she thinks it is a memory and there is no one there at all.

 

It takes her three weeks to peel her upper body off of the bed and feel movement in her legs against. Now, Astoria sits up and sees the room for the first time. It is empty but for once she is not.

 

Her bedroom is unchanged but it is missing one thing, Draco. She tries to call out for him but her voice is stuck in her throat. It comes out in a whisper compared to the yelling and the screaming she had perfected.

 

All she can do is whisper to herself and think, _I love my husband._

_I love my husband._

_I love my husband._

_I want my husband. I need my husband._

_Draco…_

It takes three more hours before Astoria finally sees the person that has been taking care of her. She comes in, a slight roundness of her belly, a wooly red jumper clings to her body and her brown eyes shine brightly. Her smile is wide, revealing too many teeth but Astoria finds for once she does not mind.

 

“Astoria,” Isabella says, rushing to the bed with a tray in her hands. She places it down on the bedside table and then sits down beside her. “You’re awake! The world has been quiet without you.”

 

Astoria is puzzled. She doesn’t understand why Isabella is here after everything she has done to her. She doesn’t understand why it is Isabella and not her sister but she finds she doesn’t care. She is thankful.

 

“W-water…” she manages to croak out. Isabella’s eyes flash and she levitates an empty glass towards her, a jet of water emitting from her wand. She hands it to Astoria who drinks it greedily, coughing slightly from the cool sensation.

 

“Thank you,” she manages to say. Speaking feels foreign to her. Her ears are not used to her own voice. “I…” But she doesn’t know what else to say as she cradles the glass in her hands.

 

Isabella shushes her and grins, laying down beside her. Astoria doesn’t flinch or snarl. She welcomes the way a body feels next to her, warm, inviting, but still it is not Draco.

 

“Daphne was supposed to be here. We’ve been rotating shifts,” she explains. “But she and Gregory went on a date last night and…well, you know Daphne.” Astoria can’t help but grin, it feels tight on her face but the emotion and the amusement are real. “How are you feeling?”

 

She wanted to complain. She wanted to tell Isabella her body aches but it isn’t only her body that hurts. It is her heart too. Panic fills her as she recalls the harsh words she had said to Isabella. The evil thoughts that had consumed her. The pure jealousy and how she wanted to hurt her and how she prayed she would go through the same pain of losing a child.

 

Her eyes examine Isabella’s caramel colored face, the way she bites her thick bottom lip as she waits anxiously for an answer, genuine concern on her face.

 

“Why are you here? She questions. “After everything I’ve done to you.”

 

Isabella pursed her lips and shifted her weight on the bed. Her hands reached for her stomach, pressing gently on the lift that is growing inside of her.

 

“Because I cannot imagine what I would have done if I was in your position. It’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy let alone my friend.”

 

Astoria smiled gently at her kind words her eyes glued to the small stomach of her _friend_.

 

Still, she was nervous. She shivered slightly as she tried to think of what she wanted to ask next. She knew if she really had to she could do it. She could take care of herself if Draco really never did come back. She wouldn’t have a home, money or too many skills to get by but she was a survivor.

 

“Draco?” she asks, thinking back to the day he said he was leaving. She wondered where the parchment he left in her hand was but didn’t ask about it not wanting to really know what it read.

 

Isabella gave her an uneasy look, a frown appearing on her soft face.

 

“Blaise said he…well…left you. I don’t know all the details,” she said nervously, not wanting to anger Astoria. “He just said it was over and then asked me to come and take care of you. He didn’t sound happy about it. He didn’t sound sad about it either. He just… _was_.”

 

Astoria nodded and shifted in the bed, pulling the covers gently off of her body and brought her feet close to her chest, letting her head rest gently on her knees even though it hurt.

 

“Draco,” she cried, wrapping her arms around her legs. “He’s really gone.” She unsuccessfully choked back a sob and her eyes shimmed with tears as she looked at Isabella who patted her back gently. “I never really wanted it to come down to his. When I said I didn’t need him I never…when I said I hate him I never…he’ll never know.”

 

Isabella cooed at Astoria as she rubbed her back as if she was comforting a child. In a way she is. She is waking up and noticing the world for the first time.

 

“Astoria, he’ll understand. He will come around. They always do. You just need to be truthful and apologize. He will listen. I’m sure of it.

 

Astoria wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hand and smiled hopefully at her. “But how do you know?”

 

“Because things can only get better from here.”

 

Astoria finds herself hanging onto her words, agreeing silently in her head. Even if he does not want to be with her Draco will forgive her. Even if he moves on and finds someone else and creates a new life with them she will be happy for him or at least pretend to be. She could not resent him because at least she had tried to piece them back together again.

 

A genuine small smile fills her face, the pain inside of her vanishing.

 

“You’re going to be an amazing mother,” she says truthfully.

 

Isabella shifts her position so she is sitting cross legged from Astoria and gently grabs her hands, placing them on her stomach gently.

 

“I believe one day so will you.”

 

-x-

 

It takes Astoria another month to attempt to perform magic. She decides early on she will not go outside or venture out into the cold. The last time she had been outside the sun was high and hot. Now the weather is brisk and she must wear her traveling cloak inside because she is still too thin. Her brown hair has grown to her shoulders and covers the back of her neck like a protective shield.

 

She isn’t sure her magic is strong enough just yet. She hasn’t wanted to test it out but her sister pushes her to do something, anything. She isn’t home when Astoria walks down the corridor in the manor with her wand in one hand and a piece of parchment in her pocket.

 

The familiar French doors Astoria used to open everyday are locked. They have not been touched by anyone since the _incident_ , which is how she refers to her struggles in her head.

 

She opens the door slowly gliding outside and staring at her garden. There is a layer of snow on the ground and more is to come soon. Thankfully she had placed a strong heating charm on her garden years ago. Her flowers droop slightly. There are weeds that need to be pulled out but some are still standing strong, alive.

 

She lifts her wand arm, wincing slightly at the effort, and points at the blue roses, whispering a spell and watching as the color changes from a blue to a bright red.

 

All but one blue rose remains. She stares at it and smiles, the balled up parchment burning a hole in her pocket. She had opened it and read it for the first time once her sister left.

 

Draco left her everything. The parchment gives her a sense of hope. She thinks if she goes to him he would accept her again. She knows that wherever he is he would still welcome her with open arms.

 

Still, as she stares at the one blue rose there is doubt in her mind.

 

Isabella thinks she is taking a nap and will not disturb her for another hour or two if she is lucky. It is enough time for Astoria to step into the fireplace. She has one destination. She needs confirmation from one more person before she can finally muster the courage to face Draco.

 

-x-

 

Lucien’s office has changed. The moment she turns the knob and opens the door with a slight creek the room she notices the room looks warm and inviting. The walls have been painted a light blue and the papers that once piled his desk are gone. Instead there are pictures of Lucien with a pretty red haired woman, they are laughing and smiling.

 

A clock in the shape of a white cat with black stripes ticks on the wall and the once grey settee Astoria tried to bury herself in is now a pea green. Lucien is sitting in his chair reading a book intently. His salt-and-pepper hair is cut shorter than Astoria remembers.

 

He looks up as if he has seen a ghost and says nothing as Astoria takes a seat, folding her hands in her lap like a child and smiles warmly at him.

 

“I recall paying for a private session that we never actually got to finish before my husband barged into the room. Surely,” she says with a grin, “you’ll give me my moneys worth now.”

 

He remains silent, staring at her over his horn rimmed spectacles, waiting for more of an explanation.

 

“Ask me anything,” she says and then pauses, “except my age. A lady never tells.”

 

Lucien continues to stare at her. She knows he is searching for the pain in her face. He is trying to see if she is lying. Where are the snarls? Her infamous dirty looks? He is searching for the tears she had let slip out accidentally when she spoke to him last but they are not there they are a mere memory.

 

“Why are you here?” he manages to ask rudely, his cheeks coloring slightly.

 

She laughs a high awkward laugh that sounds out of place in the bright room. She is still getting used to laughing and being a generally happier person. She is still getting used to being herself.

 

“My husband left me. I don’t blame him. I almost killed his mother. I’m sure you heard about that.” Lucien nodded and Astoria arched her eyebrow. Maybe she needed to start reading the _Prophet_ again.

 

“He left me everything. Money, our home. He signed on the line and it was done. I never have to worry about anything ever again. I’m free to meet men if I want too. I can travel to France or Greece or wherever. I belong to no one.”

 

The clock ticks filling the silence as Astoria waits for Lucien to say something.

 

“How does that make you feel?”

 

“Lonely,” she admits quietly. “I had a hard time trying to figure out why but I think I finally have. I just needed a confirmation. Sometimes panic fills me when I wake up or when I find myself walking past his study. I haven’t gone inside of it. It was always his special room. There are no traces of him anymore. His clothing is gone. Anything he cherished is gone but the memories are still there. _I_ am still there.”

 

Lucien shut his book and then searched nervously for a quill to tap but there was none within his reach. He muttered under his breath and then settled for tapping his fingers on the arms of the chair, the familiar sound filling the room.

 

“I’m sorry Astoria. I truly do not know what to say. This is completely unexpected and I am for once at a loss for words.” He crinkled his nose and then removed his glasses, massaging his temples slowly.

 

“What I really wanted to say was thank you. When everyone else doubted me you still managed to believe in me. You saw something there. I know it wasn’t very ethical of you to push me and to reveal to Draco that I do really love him since I was the one that was supposed to tell him. I think because of these sessions I was able to understand myself better. I was stuck in bed for a length time and I went over the questions that I was too afraid to answer.”

 

Lucien nodded but he didn’t seem to understand where she was going with this. “So then, what is next?”

 

“I like to think everything will be alright. I will find my husband. We will go home together. We will never fight about the little things again and when the big things come up we will talk it over. We will listen to each other. I will never push him away again. I will tell him that I love him. I will _find_ my husband.”

 

“Why now? What makes you think he’ll take you back?”

 

Astoria sighed tiredly but responded with conviction, “I’ve accepted the fact most of what has happened is my fault. I was too busy trying to find myself and keep everything hidden I didn’t realize Draco was lost too.”

 

Lucien knows about the visit to St. Mungo’s. He knows about the miscarriages and her fights with Draco. He knows about the shattering glass from the window and the pools of blood on the floor but still he has to ask her.

 

“Astoria, what happened to you?”

 

He knows everything there is to know about her because Draco came to see him afterwards, shell-shocked, shaking, tired but not completely broken.

 

“I don’t know,” she says truthfully, exhaling deeply. “One minute Draco was there and then the next everything was just silent. He was gone. I don’t know where we stand. It hurts to not know if this really is the end.”

 

Lucien folded his arms against his chest and stared directly at her. This was the most he had ever heard her speak. Not only was she speaking but she was letting her emotions show freely. He could see the hope in her eyes, the worry. He knew that she loved her husband. He knew deep down all along she did not want to be left alone.

 

“How exactly were you expecting me to help you? What were you expecting me to say?”

 

She shrugged her shoulders and then stood up, walking towards the door. She turned around as if it was an after thought and smiled at him.

 

“That we’re going to be okay,” she says but there is a slight sadness in her voice. She is hoping they are going to be okay. “That you could help us if we needed it again one day.”

 

The clock was ticking but she knew this time it was telling her there was still time and she better not waste it.

 

-x-

 

Daphne is tired of watching Astoria mope. Her sister gets dressed every day, prepares herself as if she’s going to go outside and then stands by the window or sits inside the garden watching the snow fall around her.

 

Logically she understands Astoria is going through a hard time but she is at her wits end. She has given her enough time and now she must push her fragile sister even if she doesn’t necessarily want to she needs too.

 

She finds Astoria holding a hot cup of tea and flipping through a magazine that is filled with baby clothing. She comments on whether Isabella will have a boy or a girl and if yellow really is gender neutral.

 

Daphne creeps up behind her, casting a shadow over the magazine and makes Astoria jump slightly.

 

“Are you trying to startle me?” she questions with a grin.

 

Daphne has grown used to the smiles, the laughs and the joy that has reappeared on her sister’s face. It is like she is back. The old her, the real her. She wants to back down but she and Isabella agreed. It is time. Astoria has to face reality instead of living inside their protective bubble.

 

“When are you going to go outside?” she questions harshly. “Get out of the manor and do something already! You think I want to be cooped up in here? I have a life.”

 

Astoria stares at her, all traces of her happy glow gone. She grips the magazine tightly and gives her a hard look.

 

“Did you get into a fight with Gregory?” she questions tentatively.

 

Daphne rolls her eyes. The annoyance is real. She finds it isn’t so hard to come up with something to say because her words are the truth. She _is_ tired of being Astoria’s caretaker. She _wants_ to go home and resume her life and she knows Astoria needs to begin living hers again.

 

“No,” she responded coldly.

 

Astoria started to fold into herself. Her body is still small, delicate. She was used to being coddled. They have been taking things slow, one step at a time, normally Daphne would tell her everything is going to be okay and they will work through it all together.

 

“Why are you even looking through this? Isabella isn’t having her baby for a few more months.” She snatched the magazine from Astoria and threw it over her shoulder on the ground.

 

“Why are you being so rude?” she questioned quietly. “Talk to me.”

 

“About what?”

 

They have nothing in common anymore. Daphne dresses up for everyday life. She lives while Astoria throws on clothes and plays dress up pretending that she is okay. Her brown eyes flash with anger as she shoves Astoria hard enough to startle her but not enough to injure.

 

“I’m tired of this Astoria. You’re supposed to be smart.” Her face flushed as she concentrated on her sister. “You _can’t_ have a baby.”

 

The words slip smoothly out of her mouth creating a barrier between them.

 

“E-excuse me?” Astoria says, a new fire inside of her. She balls her hands into fists beside her.

 

Daphne rolled her eyes at the façade of toughness she was trying to build.

 

“I’m sick of you Astoria. It hasn’t even been that long and I’ve been racking my brain to figure out what is wrong with you that made your relationship crumble. At first I figured it was Draco’s fault. Why wouldn’t he stand by your side if he couldn’t have a child? The man has all the money in the world. He could buy a baby but no, he must not have loved you enough.”

 

She cocked her head to the side and grinned maliciously as Astoria gaped at her.

 

“It’s _your_ fault. Your damn attitude,” she sneered. “You’ve always thought you were so perfect. Get off your high horse Astoria,” she said, voice sweet like sugar, fake to both their ears. “Even if you could have a baby you wouldn’t be able to keep him around.”

 

Daphne pushes. She says something about a hostile womb and that nothing would be able to stay alive inside of her. Nothing good anyway.

 

There are tears in her eyes as Astoria runs off. Too horrified. Too hurt. Too ashamed. Daphne doesn’t get to say what she was supposed too. Astoria needs to find Draco or she needs to start over. She was going to bombard her with questions about him but she had stupidly strayed from her script.

 

She feels foolish as she picks up the fallen baby magazine and sees there is a piece of parchment stuck between two pages. It reads:

 

_Ways to thank Daphne and Isabella._

There are ideas scribbled next to each name and words of thanks are written as well. Daphne crumples the paper in her hand and sighs loudly.

 

“It was for her own good,” she keeps repeating the words to herself until she finally believes them.

 

-x-

 

_The firewhiskey burned his throat as he slid in his chair staring at Blaise who was seated across from him._

_“Whoever said that marriage is easy lied,” he muttered bitterly, taking another swig from his drink._

_“Are you giving up?” Blaise questioned hotly. “Are you seriously going to give up because of a few fights?”_

_“It isn’t a few!” Draco shouted, taking another swig. “It’s every day. It’s every second of every day that we’re together. She’s never happy. We’re never happy. I’m never happy. She’s probably having an affair. I could have an affair,” he said, pointing his finger at Blaise._

_He laughed lightly, his face relaxing as he stared at Draco. Draco kept squinting. He couldn’t really follow the conversation that well. His throat was burning and he placed his glass on the desk, kicking his legs up and sighing._

_“You could have an affair but you won’t Draco. I’ll let you in on a secret.” Draco stared at him hopefully, placing his feet on the floor and leaning forward to listen to Blaise’s smooth voice._

_“I was in the same place as you once,” he admitted slowly. “I just wasn’t ready to get married. Don’t get me wrong I love Isabella but I just wasn’t ready to grow up. I saw that everyone else was getting married and I threw myself into the idea. After our honeymoon ended I realized that was it. We were supposed to be together for the rest of our lives. I had to wake up next to this person and confide in this person and I didn’t want too. As men we’re taught to not show any emotion. We’re not supposed to open up and Isabella was so unhappy.”_

_Draco listened intently. Everything Blaise was saying was similar to his situation except he had been ready to get married. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Astoria. It sounded like Astoria was the one that didn’t want to spend her life with him._

_“Marriage isn’t what I expected,” he drawled out angrily._

_“It isn’t easy,” Blaise agreed. “No marriage is perfect, even the happiest couples fight.”_

_Draco wasn’t so sure about that. He couldn’t imagine perfect Isabella fighting with Blaise and giving him such a hard time like Astoria gave him. He nodded thankfully as Blaise handed him a glass of water and drank it greedily._

_“The point is I needed help explaining how I was feeling because I was quickly losing my wife. So we started going to couples therapy. It sounded stupid to me when she suggested it and I dragged my feet all the way there but it helped.”_

_“I’m not going to tell some random stranger all about my problems and feelings.”_

_“I felt the same way Draco but you have to ask yourself what’s more important. Your marriage or your pride?”_

_Draco paused to think of his answer but he knew what was important to him already. He accepted they had problems. He knew they weren’t going to go away on their own, no matter how much he wished they would when he went to bed at night._

_“Your marriage or your pride, Draco?” he repeated._

_He groaned and reached for the bottle again. It was almost empty but he needed every last drop that he could get._

_“I lost my pride the moment I said I do.”_


	11. New Beginnings

_It’s your fault._

The statement finds its way into Astoria’s nightmares later that night. Hurt, she left the protective shield of the manor and ventured into Diagon Alley renting a room for the night. She could not stand to see her sister or Isabella. She did not want either of them to see the tears that would not stop falling from her eyes.

 

Daphne had spoken the truth.

 

Astoria was pretending to be strong but she was weak. She was weaker than ever because she couldn’t hide behind her anger any more. She had no one but herself to be mad at. She no longer had anyone to hide behind. She was alone.

 

Truthfully she thought Daphne understood what she was going through but her sister had shot her down. No one deserved to be unhappy and Astoria knew her sister was unhappy having to take care of her. She was still struggling to stand upright but she would have to learn how to take care of herself. She had to stop relying on others to fix her.

 

Sometimes she can see Draco’s eyes staring back at her. They are swimming with pain. She can hear the trickle of his voice; feel his breath on her neck and the touch of his hand against hers.

 

She knows it is a dream because each time she wakes up it is the smell of her own vanilla scented soap that engulfs her and the beating of her heart in her ears. There is an endless darkness in her life without him.

 

She _needed_ her life back.

 

She _wanted_ her life back.

-x-

 

Snow was falling to the ground making Lucius and Narcissa’s small cottage look like it is had been placed in the pages of a magazine for a winter wonderland. Astoria stared hesitantly at the doorknocker debating if she was doing the right thing.

 

She wasn’t sure Draco was even staying with his parents. She had never asked Isabella or Daphne where he was, what he was up to or even if he was okay. Yet she doubted Narcissa would allow her only son to live in a flat by himself.

 

The brass knocker felt like ice in her hand as she hit the door and waited impatiently for it to open. After a number of seconds the door opened and Lucius Malfoy stared at her with a forlorn expression on his weary face.

 

“Astoria—“

 

There was a certain edge to his voice. Astoria knew she would have to act quickly if she wanted any chance at getting inside his home.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, before you say anything let me just say I’m truly sorry for what happened a few months ago and I…I regret everything I’ve done and you have…well, you don’t have to sympathize with me or forgive me but I just need to talk to Draco,” she said quickly. “Please.”

 

She eyed Lucius nervously who in return arched his eyebrow and then smirked at the nervous woman standing before him.

 

“I typically stay out of other married peoples business,” he said with a slight snarl. “You have a lot of nerve little girl. You almost killed my wife. Do you know how much blood she lost? A flick of my wrist and you could cease to exist.”

 

Astoria bit her bottom lip nervously. She was unsure of what to say but she wasn’t going to let her father-in-law intimidate her. She knew for the most part he was all talk. Hurting her meant hurting Draco; at least she hoped so.

 

That particular day was blurry in her mind. All she could remember was what happened before. The feeling she had finally found her bliss. It was all going to be over once and for all. She had been completely empty. Narcissa just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

“She trusted you with our son. We trusted you with our son. I don’t know what happened to you but it is inexcusable,” he said tightly.

 

Astoria groaned out of pure frustration. “I _am_ trustworthy. You know that. Lucius, I am your _daughter_. Please, I can do better.”

 

The snow was picking up and Astoria shivered visibly clutching her cloak closer to her body but her eyes didn’t move from his. He didn’t soften. His facial expression was cold and didn’t give much away but he wasn’t one to show his emotions.

 

The two of them eyed each other without saying anything for a number of seconds when he finally spoke again.

 

“Draco stepped out. Narcissa is in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side and waving her in.

 

He watched with satisfaction as she gulped nervously but started towards the kitchen with her head held high.

 

-X-

 

Narcissa was pointing her wand around the kitchen lazily. Sponges were scrubbing pots and pans while two brooms were sweeping the floor in a swift backward and forward motion. She did not look up as she heard the familiar screech of the door open.

 

“Lucius, I’ve told you time and time again do not come into the kitchen when I am cleaning. You always manage to dirty the floor.”

 

Cleaning had become a new hobby for Narcissa. Once the war ended her husband didn’t trust another house elf or anyone for that matter to come into their home. He was paranoid but they all were.

 

“I am not Lucius.”

 

Narcissa did not look up right away. She knew the voice but she thought she had to have been dreaming. The brooms fell and the pots and pans made a loud crashing sound as her wand arm fell to her side. She slowly looked up. Her blue eyes were dark as she finally laid eyes on Astoria.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a snarl. “Who let you in? Have you gone completely mad to show up here?”

 

Astoria grimaced and slowly started to remove the black gloves she was wearing while Narcissa watched her every move. She still gripped her wand in her hand but Astoria made no signs of doing so. Instead she placed the gloves in her pocket and then removed her traveling cloak, revealing rich red robes underneath. It went well with the holiday spirit Narcissa had been trying to instill in her home for the last week.

 

Astoria was making herself comfortable. Narcissa couldn’t believe her audacity.

 

“You are not welcome here.”

 

Astoria didn’t even flinch at her words. “Your husband doesn’t seem to think that.”

 

“My husband is wrong,” she responded coolly.

 

“Just let me explain.”

 

Narcissa stared at her silently. This was the same person that had nearly killed her. This was the same person who had broken her son. She had thrown away the Malfoy name as if it meant nothing; this silly little girl had somehow gotten all the power.

 

“You have one minute. It started ten seconds ago.”

 

Astoria shook slightly under the calculating gaze of her mother-in-law. She hadn’t expected her to give in just yet. She felt anxious but excited at the same time. It was that slither of hope she had been hanging on to.

 

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” she said slowly. “I owe you an apology. I’m here to speak with you and…”

 

She couldn’t finish her sentence because she wasn’t ready to say his name yet. She could handle Lucius but Narcissa was the head of the family, as much as he liked to think he was the one in charge she took the reigns. She made all of the vital decisions. She just liked to think he had a say.

 

“Does not sound like an apology to me,” she responded gruffly.

 

Astoria had to stop herself from outwardly groaning. “I thought you were out of line. You said things that got under my skin but you were right.”

 

Narcissa tried not to lose her composure but she was startled by her words.

 

“Of course I was right.”

 

“I was the issue. I was going through something. I won’t take the blame for everything that happened in our marriage but I love Draco. I could never imagine my life without him. He’s my family.”

 

Astoria felt embarrassed to admit her feelings so openly to his mother. She was never one of those girls who sat around daydreaming about their significant other or droned on about how in love they were. Even in the beginning her relationship was private.

 

“You were part of our family too,” Narcissa said quietly.

 

Astoria couldn’t meet her eyes and awkwardly rubbed her neck, uncomfortable. She took two tentative steps towards Narcissa who responded by holding her wand up in protest.

 

“Sorry,” she whispered, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “You have every right to not trust me Narcissa but I am still part of your family. If you’ll have me that is.”

 

“It isn’t up to me Astoria. It’s up to Draco but know this actions speak louder than words and your actions have spoken volumes.”

 

-X-

 

Draco did not know when he entered his bedroom at his parent’s home he was going to be met with a visitor. He was covered with snow and shivering from the cold. He dusted himself off quickly and removed his wet cloak, throwing it haphazardly on his bed. He did not notice the person sitting in the corner as he fell down on his bed and exhaled loudly.

 

Work was exhausting. His parents were asking him when he would go back to the manor or find a place to live. It was his, it was theirs; the manor was practically a Malfoy family heirloom. According to his mother it could not be discarded especially to a woman who did not want to be a Malfoy.

 

He kicked off his shoes oddly satisfied by the loud thump they made once they hit the ground and curled up into a ball. He lazily pulled his wand out and levitated a green quilt to cover his body.

 

He didn’t know how he would tell his parents he never wanted to step inside Malfoy Manor again. Just thinking of his former home made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts rarely fell on Astoria. He tried to wear himself out during the day so he could have a dreamless sleep but the potions he worked on took time to brew. He was given ample time as he stirred clockwise and counterclockwise to think about her.

 

_“I love you…”_

 

“Draco?” A soft voice called out. He knew the voice and cursed to himself. He had been managing these past few months but now he was hearing her voice again.

 

“ _You don’t want to see me jealous…”_

 

“Go away,” he moaned, rubbing his grey eyes tiredly. “I’m too tired for this today.”

 

_“I am a prisoner in your home!”_

“I’m sorry,” the voice said. “I’ll just be off then…”

 

Draco jerked up at the sound of actual feet shuffling out of his room and the door opened. His eyes opened wide from shock as they fell on Astoria.

 

“Wait!” he shouted. She paused at the door and made eye contact with him. “You just wait. What are you doing here?” He wanted to ask her if she was real. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. She _looked_ real but her brown hair was longer, there were no eye rolls, frowns or visible anger on her face.

 

Her cheeks reddened as he stared at her.

 

“I probably should have waited outside. Sorry,” she said hurriedly. She was definitely blushing and Draco could not understand why. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

 

He arched his eyebrow and then hopped off the bed, crossing his arms against his grey jumper and shrugging. His head was pounding uncontrollably as the memories started to swim in his head.

 

“We have nothing to talk about.”

 

“Oh…” Her face fell and she stared down at her shoes silently. “Well…”

 

Draco’s heart was beating in his chest nervously, a loud thump, thump, thump that he was sure could be heard throughout the entire house. His automatic reaction was to walk over to her and comfort her but he stopped himself. He had to stop thinking like that. As if she even wanted his comfort.

 

“I suppose I can listen,” he said after a few minutes of silence, “at least for a little while.”

 

-X-

 

The Leaky Cauldron was virtually empty when they met for dinner that night. Neither wanted to speak with Narcissa and Lucius just a few rooms down. Draco had deflected his mother’s questions once Astoria left. He didn’t know exactly what she wanted to talk about but he wasn’t averse to hearing her speak.

 

He found himself hoping maybe she would explain to him some unsaid things and give him the closure he desperately needed.

 

He struggled to dress himself. He didn’t know what you wore when you were meeting your wife or rather unofficial ex-wife for dinner. Draco felt foolish after realizing how giddy he felt to see her and opted for black trousers and a clean navy jumper before throwing on his cloak and appearing in the Leaky.

 

They sat in a dimly lit corner at a rickety old wooden table where Hannah Abbot seemed to have forgotten about them. They each nursed a glass of water, not looking directly at the other.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly. It came out low, soft, if Draco hadn’t been waiting for her to speak he would not have heard it.

 

He looked up and stared directly at Astoria. “For what?” he replied nonchalantly.

 

“For hurting you. For not being able to trust you. For not being a suitable wife.”

 

He tapped his fingers on the table, not losing focus on her. “You weren’t a horrible wife,” he insisted. “If anything I was a terrible husband. I should have tried harder. The both of us should have tried just a little harder.”

Trust was an interesting concept. Trust could keep a marriage strong but it could also tear a marriage apart. You couldn’t have a relationship without trust and Draco realized when he walked away that day from their bedroom trust had been a bigger issue than he thought.

 

Trust. Honesty. Communication. His marriage had lacked all three.

 

It was a strange institution, marriage. He found himself mulling over his vows from time to time.

 

_I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take you Astoria Greengrass, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse…_

They had not been able to handle the ‘worse’ part. They had experienced so little of the ‘better.’ He felt cheated, blindsided, but he couldn’t blame only her. He had to take responsibility too.

 

“Why now?” he asked quietly. “After all this time? Why now?”

 

_For richer, for poorer…_

Draco had given her everything. All he had left was some money in his personal vault. He had still cared enough in the end to make sure she would be able to survive on her own comfortably. She wouldn’t have to punish herself and struggle unnecessarily because after everything she did he didn’t want to harm her.

 

Astoria bit her bottom lip, hesitating to go on but pushing through. “I’ve always been sorry. I just never knew how to say it. You have to understand I was unhappy. I was in pain. I should have said something to you but I didn’t and I regret that. You had this plan for us mapped out that was picture perfect and I didn’t know how to tell you that I was letting you down. I figured you would regret marrying me. I was scared you were going to leave me.”

 

His eyes softened but he couldn’t help chuckle slightly.

 

_In sickness or in health…_

“Do I really come off that cruel?”

 

The sickness had crept in unexpectedly. Truthfully if he had known what she was going through he would have been upset, angry even. He knows that now. Though he would like to believe he would have been there for her.

 

“I felt like less of a woman,” she whispered. Astoria was no longer looking at him but down at her glass of water, tracing the rim with her finger. “Surely there have been times where you felt like a lesser man?”

 

_Are you a man?_

 

Draco thought he understood the question his father had asked him years before now he knows he does not. What does it mean to be a man? Besides the anatomy he feels like he is less of a man when he cries. He was taught to be strong and to show no emotion. He feels like less of a man when his mind wanders back to their arguments and he realizes he could have done something to prevent them instead of cower in fear and fold into himself for safety as she lashed out at him.

 

Draco doesn’t know what it means to be a man and this helps him finally understand how she is feeling.

 

Just the thought of never having a child scares him. His parents do not know because he does not know how to tell his mother. It would break her heart and he is not willing to do that. He has already broken one woman’s heart and that is more than he can handle in a lifetime.

 

_To love and to cherish ‘till death do us part_.

 

Draco couldn’t put a finger on how he felt about the final part of their vow. They had parted but death did not take either of them. In a way death still had effected their relationship.

 

“I miss you,” he admitted. “I miss us.”

 

She nodded her head and finally looked back up, eyes meeting his, a scared smile on her lips.

 

“I miss you too.”

 

There were many things to still be said. There was still a lot of pain and anger that needed to be worked through and understood but at that moment it did not matter to Draco or Astoria. She reached her hand out first and then he reached out towards her, fingers gently entwining.

 

-X-

 

After a number of months she was once again wearing her wedding band. The silver band felt cool against her skin, refreshing, light, as if it belonged there.

 

Lucien has never heard Draco laugh before and finds it is heavy, full of life and happiness. He stares at the couple with a satisfied grin on his face and rubs his hands together as they sit on the settee closely together, hand in hand.

 

Draco’s eyes sparkled as he glanced at Astoria who was smiling shyly at Lucien, waiting for their therapist to speak.

 

“You’re both back,” he said finally. “You’re back and…well, let’s get started, shall we?”

 

He closed the book that was on his lap and placed a finger to his chin, pondering what question or what lesson he could give them. The couple had explained to him in a quick flurry the conversation they had shared but he could tell the moment they walked into his office they were better.

 

Though they needed work. They still had a lot to discuss but right now what they needed were each other. Lucien understood why everything changed but he wanted to hear it again and again and _again_. Having grown fond of the two he had been sure when they had shown up the first day they were never going to make it.

 

“What’s next?” He finally settled on asking, sitting back in his chair and eyeing the two.

 

A wry smile appeared on Draco’s lips as he squeezed Astoria’s hand.

 

“We’ve talked about it. It’s a long shot but we both agreed we’d be there for each other and it’s only appropriate we _try_ properly this time. No secrets.”

 

Astoria bounced excitedly in her seat and exclaimed happily, “We’re going to have a baby!”

 

“We talked to the Healers,” Draco explained at the puzzled look Lucien was giving him. “We’re going to _try_ to have a baby. They said with extreme care she may be able to carry a child to term. I’m going to cut my hours at work. We have more money than we know what to do with anyway. I could stop working but she says I’ll driver her mad if I’m around all day. She would have to be on bed rest and monitored closely. It’ll take a few months of _practice_ —“

 

Draco was rambling now. He was talking in circles. Lucien’s heart felt heavy. It sounded too good to be true. They weren’t being realistic. They had just gotten back together and now they were talking about having a child they most likely could not have. He was afraid they were setting their relationship up for failure.

 

“Did you consider waiting?” he questioned. “Do you have a proper support system? Are you prepared if it doesn’t happen and you’re faced with the reality that you cannot have your own child?”

 

They both nodded, their smiles not disappearing from their faces.

 

“Waiting isn’t an option—“

 

Astoria elbowed Draco and started to speak, “We want to start the next chapter in our life together. There is a real possibility it might not happen and we’ll be happy either way but we have to try.”

 

Draco nodded in agreement and then gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, making her grin.

 

“We’ve already started to pick out some names.”

 

“Though he doesn’t seem to want to name our future daughter Astoria if we have a girl,” she said, her free hand placed on her stomach as she imagined the child they could have. One with his blonde hair and grey eyes. One with her nose and his sharp chin. “We’re just hoping for the best.”

 

They talked excitedly for a few more minutes and then the couple rose, ready to say their goodbyes.

 

Draco turned momentarily and looked at Lucien, looking over the room a final time. His eyes fell on the pictures that were on his desk.

 

“Lucien?”

 

“Yes, Draco?”

 

“Who is that woman in the photo?”

 

Lucien smiled widely and reached back, struggling to pick up a frame with a picture of him and a redheaded woman, they were both smiling and waving with cherry blossom trees blowing in the wind behind them.

 

“She is someone new. A very nice woman.”

 

Draco can tell she has already captured his heart. He has changed and everything is a new experience, the world is a brighter place, life is exciting.

 

_Never get married. Marriage is a disappointment._

 

“I know you don’t need my advice but the little things matter,” he said.

 

Lucien chuckled. “That’s not true. I don’t know everything Draco. I don’t pretend to know everything.”

 

Draco knows this to be true but he still likes to think Lucien does. Lucien will prevail because he knows the ins and outs. He has witnessed a couple fall down and pick themselves back up again.

 

“You once asked me why I thought marriage was a disappointment. It isn’t. You can never be truly certain if the person you end up with is going to make you happy in the long run but when you’re married you can’t just walk away. It isn’t always going to be perfect.”

 

“I know,” Lucien said with a nod. Astoria was pulling his arm gently but Draco felt compelled to say more.

 

“But it’s worth it. We’ll see you soon, Lucien.”

 

He watched from his chair as the couple left his room. The door closed behind them leaving behind a peaceful silence. Lucien knew Astoria needed and deserved to be a mother but with every new beginning meant there was an ending. He just wasn’t sure how their story was going to end but she deserved a second chance.

 

Because there is a light at the end of the tunnel and they were both walking towards it together.


	12. Painful Bliss

Life is fleeting.

 

Sometimes we think moments can drag on forever. Other times we wish we could pause them or replay them over and over on a constant loop when we need them most. He wishes he could pause his memories but he has lived too long in the past obsessing over the pain he has gone through. He struggles to remember the happier times.

 

He struggles to live in the moment.

 

There are rows of students. All he can see are the tips of the pointy black wizards hats and hear the drone of the Headmaster congratulate the students. He does not listen to the words but there is a murmur and then a great round of applause that he misses as his grey eyes try to target a blonde haired boy in the crowd. He is unrecognizable. He cannot see him but it calms him to know that one of the hats that is being thrown in the air belongs to his son.

 

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

 

He closes his eyes, the cheers millions of miles away as memories flood his mind.

 

_-x-_

_“Draco!”_

_Her voice is frantic and though he does not know exactly what room she is in he starts to run at a feverish pace out of his office._

_“Astoria!” he shouts her name with desperation, running around in circles, debating if he should run up the stairs to their bedroom or circle back around towards the gardens. His decision is made for him when she runs into his vision, stomping down the steps frantically, almost slipping at the last one._

_Her face is flushed and her wand arm is shaking slightly as she hops on the balls of her feet, staring at her husband. It has been five months since their conversation with Lucien and Draco does not think they could be any happier._

_“What’s the matter? What happened?”_

_Her wide smile should tell him everything but he places his hand on her forehead to see if she is feverish because the sudden excitement is out of character for her._

_“I’m late!” she shouts, jumping up and down with excitement. His eyes open wide but he doesn’t understand the words she’s telling him._

_“For what?” he questions dumbly, walking towards the wooden coat hanger in the living area and reaching for his traveling cloak. If she is late then he is late and he wasn’t even dressed to go outside._

_“You’re not listening to me,” she says with a pout. “I am late.”_

_“I heard you the first time. Were we supposed to have dinner with my parents? Blaise and Isabella?” His face darkened and his brows furrowed. “Please tell me we didn’t agree to have dinner with Daphne and Goyle again. They can’t keep their hands off each other. I tell you Astoria, I really don’t want to watch him grope my sister-in-law while I eat my dinner—“_

_She places her hand on his mouth, promptly shutting him up._

_“Do the spell!” she demands, pointing to her stomach. “Let’s see.”_

_His eyes widen in realization and he stares at her flat stomach as she pulls up her blue camisole. He removes his wand out of his pocket and he finds himself shaking, the worry building inside of him. They had been wrong twice before and the disappointment sat with them for days._

_He waved his wand, praying for a miracle._

_-x-_

He stands alone, waiting for him by the Slytherin table because some habits are hard to break. Even though he knows his son spends most of his time at the Gryffindor table, according to the letters they send back and forth week after week. His son, a Malfoy, had fallen for a Weasley and at seventeen was proclaiming his _undying_ love for her.

 

-x-

 

_The room was dark, only five candles are lit and they are floating around in a sequence as if it they were performing a ritual._

_Draco stood in the doorway unnoticed, watching as his wife flicked her wand lazily, making the candles move in formation while staying curled up in the bed._

_Her stomach isn’t large. It is not as round and plump as Isabella’s had been when she was pregnant. Yet he finds he wouldn’t care if she was the size of a house._

_He walks to the bed and takes a seat next to her. His hands softly land on her exposed stomach, cupping as much as he can. She smiles and leans in to give him a kiss._

_“I heard it was a bad day. I came as soon as I could,” he said, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. Her jaw is tight and her teeth grind together as tears escape from her bright blue eyes._

_“They couldn’t hear his heart beat,” she whispered. “I can’t handle this Draco. Not again.”_

_He doesn’t say anything as her words ring in his ears. “We’re having a boy?”_

_She bites her lip and nods her head. “I’m sorry. It was an accident that I found out.”_

_He isn’t listening to her but staring at her small white stomach, his heart beating loudly in his chest._

_He was having a son. He was going to be a father._

_-x-_

Draco waits patiently for the students to file out. His eyes gaze around the Great Hall. He can remember eating and looking across to the Gryffindor table, glaring at Harry Potter because of his childish jealousy. His eyes fall on him today, happy, hugging his wife with a son and daughter in tow, waiting for their graduate.

 

Their eyes meet momentarily and they nod at each other but words are rarely spoken between the two.

 

Draco finds it odd that Astoria went to Hogwarts too. That he never noticed her in the throng of other Slytherins because he was too busy looking elsewhere.

 

Today his eyes scan the Slytherin table even though he knows he will not see her sitting there.

 

-x-

 

_There was a loud cry in the air as he tried to tell Astoria to breathe. Her brow was sweaty and her brown hair clung to her forehead. He had been wiping it down for the last twenty hours. He did not know nor did he understand how a woman could handle so much pain._

_He is amazed by her strength. She doesn’t cry out and scream. She doesn’t complain about how much it hurts and how much she cannot do it and she can’t go on like Blaise had said about Isabella or how other women talked about giving birth._

_Instead she grips his hand, his wedding band making a perfect imprint on his finger. He’s sure she’s broken it because her grip is that strong but he doesn’t say anything because he cannot complain._

_The wail is coming from his son. The Healers are levitating him while another cuts the cord that connects his wife and son with her wand, severing the connection. He watches in amazement as this bloody child cries, dropping in the arms of a Healer and is rushed off to be cleaned._

_But he cannot watch much longer because two Healers are rushing him out of the room, their lime green robes engulfing him, telling him he must get out._

_There is a flurry of commotion as he looks back before the doors close in his face, there is shouting and wand waving but he barely notices as he looks at his wife._

_Her lips were blue._

_-x-_

His head pounds as the students walk into the Great Hall. The cheers are loud as parents wave flags in the air, green, red, blue and yellow. He is holding no flag. He is not yelling or whooping in the air. No cheers emit from his mouth but he stands proudly as a tall lanky boy fumbles towards him, tripping under his feet and waving with excitement, throwing his arms around Draco.

 

“Dad!” he shouts, pulling away, his Slytherin badge placed proudly on his robes. “I did it! I graduated!”

 

A small smile falls on Draco’s lips as he stares at the excited blonde who is bouncing on the balls of his feet talking about the graduation that had just happened.

 

“The Weasley’s and the Potter’s are having a graduation party for Rose and Albus. Can I go?” he questions, waiting patiently for an answer. “I promise I won’t be too late. I’ll be home for dinner!” he says, pleading with his father.

 

“Of course.” He finds himself saying but he doesn’t really want him to leave.

 

It pains him when his son goes, making the hole that is already in his chest bigger. Sometimes Draco cries when he reads his letters from his son. Even if they are two letters he cherishes them because they make him feel a little less alone.

 

Scorpius gets ready to leave, his blue eyes shining with excitement but he stops, placing his hands on his father’s chest.

 

“Dad, your flower is falling.”

 

He removes the pin and grips the blue rose that Draco had decided to wear in place of his Slytherin badge, twirling it in his fingers momentarily, and then repining it, patting his father gently.

 

Scorpius understands the meaning of the blue rose.

 

-x-

 

_He had almost lost her and he had never felt more scared in his life._

_Now, Astoria smiles at her husband and then brushes lint off of her son’s shoulders._

_After the initial scare was over Draco found that he could not be happier. Scorpius has his blonde hair but his mother’s blue twinkling eyes. He is the perfect son._

_His son stares at both of his parents, a grim look on his face._

_“I don’t want to go to Hogwarts,” he admits, looking at the red steaming train with a grimace. “Why can’t you go to Hogwarts with me?” he questions, quietly._

_A smile falls on both parents’ faces and Draco finds he is crouching down so he is eye level with Scorpius and fixes his tie that is slightly askew._

_“You’re not going to miss us,” he says with a laugh. “By the end of the day you’re going to have so many friends mummy and I are going to be so boring to be around when you come home for Christmas.”_

_He arched his eyebrow at his father and gaped at him as if to say, ‘That cannot be true.’_

_“Scorpius,” Astoria says gently, “go before you miss the train. Don’t forget to write and tell us everything about your sorting. You’ll be fine. Have we ever steered you wrong?”_

_Scorpius shook his head and hugged his parents, running towards the train giving them one final glance._

_“It’s going to be strange without him in the house,” he says after a moment. “Isn’t it? It’s going to be terribly quiet.”_

_Astoria nodded her head in agreement and then bit her bottom lip._

_“Not unless we have another,” she whispered softly. He stared at her and then laughed, taking her words as a joke but when the hopeful look didn’t fall from her face, he shook his head, the anger quickly seeping into his voice._

_“We’ve talked about this,” he groaned. “We have him. We don’t need any more. We can’t have any more. You almost died Astoria, you’re older now, it’s even riskier.”_

_She glared at him and childishly crossed her arms against her chest._

_“Things have changed Draco. Magic has improved. I want to raise one more, a girl. Why can’t we just try?”_

_It is a fight they have had often throughout the years. One that Draco has won time and time again but this one is different because she does not back down even when they are at home. She tells him to imagine a little girl with rosy red cheeks, her small fingers gripping his large ones, blue eyes stuck to her father._

_“Look, I’m tired and now isn’t the time to discuss this. We’re in a public place and…”_

_He didn’t want to cry. He wasn’t worried about her feelings. He was worried about his because the idea had crept into his head for the past month since he knew he would have to let Scorpius go off without him._

_“I don’t care who is here. I don’t care if every person in England listens to our conversation. I want to have a baby. Please. I promise you that nothing will go wrong. I’ll be careful. Draco…”_

_“I’m listening,” he mumbles tiredly._

_“So, do you want to have a baby or do you not?” she asks with annoyance. She’s speaking very slowly as if he doesn’t understand the English language._

_“It’s not a simple yes or no answer Astoria,” he says with an edge of annoyance. “Think about Scorpius, what if something happens to you, how will he handle not having a mother?”_

_But it isn’t Scorpius he’s worried about. He is being selfish and only thinking of himself._

_“Think of the baby soft skin…”_

_He sighs and shakes his head. “You can’t blame me. It isn’t fair to him. We wouldn’t be a fully functioning family. What would I do? How would I survive?” His lip quivered as she kissed him softly._

_“Life is meant to be lived. Take a chance with me.”_

_It takes some convincing but she wins and Draco lets go of his fears. He does not want to lose her but he thinks they are invincible. They have beat the odds before._

-x-

 

“Scorpius, wait…”

 

“Dad?”

 

“I’m so proud of you. Here.”

 

There is a box that Draco has been gripping onto for dear life. It is really all he has left of her, the one thing that would keep them together but he doesn’t need it. It is not his to keep. It is not his to cherish any longer.

 

Scorpius opens the box hesitantly and stares at the silver engagement ring and matching wedding band.

 

“Dad? I’m only seventeen.” He says, snapping it shut and blushing slightly.

 

But Draco _knows_ his son. He likes to think he knows his actions before he does. He is much like his father, a nervous wreck when it comes to women, dives deep into the relationship, will do anything to catch them before they fall.

 

_-x-_

_His handwriting was jagged. How could he write these words to his son. Explain to him in just one letter how he was feeling. How he would still be there even though she could not be._

_His wife was gone. Astoria was gone and all Draco was left with was the smell of her vanilla scented soap and silence that filled the drafty old manor._

_Scorpius,_

_It is with a heavy heart that I must tell you your mother has passed away. She loves you. The brother—_

_He cannot write more. There will be no pitter-patter of feet. No wails of hunger coming from their bedroom and no cooing or singing to try and coax their baby to sleep. A nameless child, baby Malfoy, but still the pain is deep as if it was Scorpius he had lost too._

_Draco had still held him, hoping that wherever the soul of his son went off to he knew the love he carried for him. No matter how fleeting their connection._

_He pauses, putting his quill down. He was going to break his sons heart in a letter. Tell him something neither of them could cope with by themselves._

_I’m sorry, he finds himself writing the words quickly, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I could never save you but I tried. I tried to give you what you wanted and I like to think that I succeeded. We will miss you._

_He crossed out Scorpius’s name and wrote in its place—Astoria._

_-x-_

He nods and rushes off, and Draco knows that Scorpius understands what he really means but he cannot say it out loud. It hurts too much to speak about and cheapens the meaning with the others around them.

He shuts his eyes and has to put his hand on the side of the table to steady himself as the painful memory overwhelms him. His wife and his second son did not make it.

 

_We are so proud of you_. _She would have been so proud of you._

 

Draco watched with a sad smile as Scorpius found his way to his girlfriend. Her bright red hair reminded Draco of the flowers that used to bloom in their garden, smacking him in the face as she squealed and turned around to wrap her arms around his neck.

 

_Rose_.

 

He stands in the Great Hall, even after most of the people have wandered off, staring at the spot his son and his girlfriend had stood, talking excitedly to her parents.

 

Sometimes he thinks that parenthood is like marriage. Not everyone is suited for it. It sickens him to think of the children that struggle. That were like him when he was in Hogwarts, coasting along without any guidance and when it came not accepting it. If he could he would make all parents take a vow, similar to one during marriage, like he has. He has vowed to be there for his son.

 

For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish even after death parted them.

 

His left hand fingers the deep blue rose that he has pinned to his cloak. Astoria is nothing more than a memory. Some days he wakes up and swears he smells the faint scent of vanilla. Other days he has trouble forming a complete picture of his wife in his head even though photographs of her litter their home.

 

Astoria is gone but Scorpius lives. Scorpius is his family. He is his _life_. Draco is content, happy with his son, but it is a painful happiness, the kind that reminds you there is something missing in your life.

 

The blue rose pinned to his cloak signifies that. There is a hole in his chest that can only be filled by Astoria.

 

But he is happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: This was my NaNo project from 2012. I finished the entire story in 12 days. I hope everyone enjoys it since I never posted anything besides this prologue. I will be posting the other chapters so stay tuned. 
> 
> As a side note: This story will be focused more on the emotions. Each chapter has a ‘memory’ that starts and ends the chapters. The rest of the chapters are broken into sections. It sounds confusing but hopefully you’ll see what I mean. It was kind of a different way to challenge myself when I was writing. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and don’t forget to review.


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